


Journey

by prettylittlepetticoats



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Jaime Lannister Redemption, POV Jaime Lannister, POV Sansa Stark, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:01:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 47,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24029287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettylittlepetticoats/pseuds/prettylittlepetticoats
Summary: Sansa doesn't believe in songs, not anymore. Instead she believes in herself, believes she can run from the Lannister's and find her way home. Jaime is questioning everything too, and when he runs into Sansa on the Kings Road he must question his allegiances. Will he uphold his vow and take Sansa home? Is it possible a Lannister will be Sansa's saviour?
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Sansa Stark
Comments: 93
Kudos: 316





	1. Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yet another story, I should be updating the others, ahhhh
> 
> hope you enjoy, please like and bookmark and all that jazz.  
> this is legit one of my fav pairings!
> 
> songrecommendations: just be, ashley jana

Her legs ached, the cuts on her hands and forehead stung, and she felt completely exhausted, but she didn't stop. She dug her feet into the sides and snapped the reigns of her horse harder, urging it forward. Her backside hurt from the hours riding, her legs ached, and she felt hunger deep in her stomach that was starting to hurt. Still she didn't stop, the dawn was rising, and she knew that every minute counted, every second counted now.

It had been hours since she had fled, and she knew that soon the Lannister’s would be waking for the day. Her handmaids would find her bed empty; they would search the Godswood and the keep and find no trace of her and then there would be a full-scale search. She still had a little bit of time before that happened, and she had to put as much distance between herself and Kings Landing in the meantime.

So, she ignored the pain, ignored the exhaustion and the hunger, and continued to ride, and ride hard. She was adjacent to the Kings Road, hidden in the forest just off the path, but close enough she could see the road. She was wary of riding in plain sight, not just because of the Lannister’s but because of anyone else. She was a noble woman, and she knew that despite her attempts to look poor, she still looked highborn. She couldn't risk anyone wanting to cause her trouble, and so she hid herself between the trees. For once, she felt thankful that her Father had forced her to learn riding; Arya had enjoyed it a lot more than she had, but now? Now it was saving her life, and she was thankful she knew how.

She couldn't quite believe that she had done it, she had escaped! Regardless of her aches and pains, she felt exhilarated. She was free! All she had to do was make it to the Riverland’s and she would find her brother, she would be back with her family and under their protection. The thought filled her with a deep motivation to keep going, and a deep happiness that she would soon be home. What was a bit of hardship now of it got her back to her brother? Her mother? She would join their side and fight against the Lannister’s. They would retake Winterfell and be back together, the Stark pack reunited.

Her decision to flee had not be a carefully planned out one, but one driven by need, by necessity. She had been told by a smirking Cersei Lannister that very morning that she was to be wed. As a ward of the crown Sansa's hand was Joffrey's to give, and so he had, to Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer.

They had planned to marry her to Jaime Lannister! The very thought made her feel a mixture of sick and scared. He was the man who had fought her father, he was a Lannister! And she knew the rumours were true. He was Joffrey’s father; he was responsible for his evil spawn that sat on the throne. She couldn’t marry him, she wouldn’t, she’d rather die first.

The thought of marrying him, of having to bed him … it made her feel ill. And so as soon as Cersei had told her she had locked herself in her room and planned her escape. Any anxieties or hesitations that had stopped her escaping before were gone now. She had no choice but to leave, it was that or marry the Kingslayer.

Who cares if they caught her and cut off her head? Who cares if they caught her and forced her into this marriage? She had to at least try, she was a Stark, she was strong, she wouldn't march willingly into the Sept. The only way she would walk down those stairs would be if forced, and she would do everything to never make it to the Sept in the first place. Their threats didn't scare her anymore, not when faced with a complete and utter truth; if she married Jaime Lannister, she would never be free. She would be his wife, stuck with him forever, and she would not allow that to happen.

And so, she had planned. Sent away her handmaids, barricaded her door and planned. She had been on the 2nd floor of the Keep, and underneath her window sat a large patch of grass. The wall was made of stone, and honeysuckle creeped up the side, she had torn apart her bedsheets making a ladder down, it was inventive and something she had picked up from Bran; when he was 8 he had been sent to his room without dessert for climbing, and so he had created a ladder and sneaked down to the kitchens; their Father had been both exasperated and amused. She had smiled for Bran as she had tossed the sheet rope out the window, securing the other end to the bed.

After that she had packed. She wasn't stupid, she knew the Riverland’s were a good distance away, and though she would have to restock along the way, she hoped to do it as little as possible, and so she had taken a medium sized burlap sack and filled it with as much as she could fit. But first she had dressed herself; a simple grey gown (the diamonds on the hem were unavoidable, everything else was even more opulent), a large dark cloak with a roomy hood, and strong riding boots. She had tied back her hair and wore no jewellery. She then went to fill her bag.

She packed money, a small pouch of gold dragons and a larger one of silver stags. Next in went some food, everything her handmaids had left; some oranges, three apples, a large hunk of bread and two slightly brown bananas, she managed to fill a smaller pouch with nuts and some berries that she tied and packed as well. Next in went the hairbrush her mother had gifted her and finally two changes of small clothes. She had been ready to go before she packed a butter knife on top of everything, she knew it would be a meagre defence if anything happened, but it was better than nothing. She had looked around the room, checking for anything else, and had then grabbed a large grey blanket from the end of her bed (one she had knitted for herself). It could sit on the back of her horse and would be good to sleep with.

For a moment she had hesitated, scared she would break her neck on the fall or be stopped at the gate, or die on the road, but she had taken a deep breath and moved forward. It didn’t matter what happened to her, she had to try.

The climb down had been surprisingly uneventful, her hands had been cut up a fair bit, and a hairy moment against the wall had caused her to scrape against it, leaving a few cuts on her forehead, and what she was sure would be a black eye the next day but that was all. She had winded herself a little when she had fallen to the bottom, but she had only needed a minute to recover before she was on her feet unharmed, alone and ready to go. Then she had needed a horse.

The stables had been thankfully empty, and she had saddled up a horse, a fine black mare with a silver saddle. She had placed her blanket on the back and secured her sack to the side. Luck seemed to be with her as she found a few more apples and a large water skin, clearly left behind by the stable boys. After securing them in her pack she had walked the horse around the gardens. It would have been easier to go through the castle but also more dangerous. And so, she took the long route, dipping down by the coast and then back around to end up in flea bottom.

Only then had she jumped on her horse, passed through the dragon gate (the guards had been half drunk and waved her through without looking), before fully setting off. She had galloped at a fierce pace, her horse a fine creature and capable of riding for at least half a day without tiring. She had been riding ever since, not looking back, not stopping for anything. She had to put as much distance between herself and the Capitol as she could, if she had any hope of surviving. She had debated taking a different route North, perhaps through the Reach? But no, she knew the Kings Road, she knew the route and wouldn't risk a different way.

And so, she continued on, her legs still aching but her determination fierce. She was free! She felt truly excited as she rode, the wind whipping her face and the cold biting at her skin. Soon she would be back with her family, and she would never feel the torture of the Lannister’s again. She was going home, that was all that mattered, and once she was back in Winterfell she would never go South again.

It was odd. Sansa had never tried to flee, too fearful of being caught and the consequences of attempted escape, but after hearing about her marriage? The decision had been easy. She hadn't even stopped to ask for help. She was sure if she had found Ser Dontos, he would have helped her, or if she had really stopped and asked Tyrion, he might have done something. Still, she hadn't had time to debate her escape, acting so impulsively was as important as riding hard away from the Capitol, it ensured that no one would be out looking for her until the last possible moment. Besides, she did not want to rely on anyone else, not anymore. From now on she would only trust her family, no one else.

The first trickles of light had started breaking through the clouds and Sansa decided it was time for a stop. She was on the road now, fields surrounding her, luckily the ground was flat, and she could easily see for miles in each direction and it seemed she was alone. She stopped for a moment next to a large rock, and sat down on it, her horse immediately grazing. She pulled out her water skin and took a long drink, before pouring some into a crevice in the boulder. Her horse snorted as she made a bee line for it, drinking the stuff up immediately. Sansa reached into her burlap sack and tore off a large hunk of bread. She almost laughed at how unladylike she must look but shrugged that aside, looking like a lady was not her concern right now, in face it was better to look as unladylike as possible.

Her father had told her stories off the Kings Road, about how it was dangerous with bands of men preying on the people who walked it. The animals around the area weren't meant to be much better. Sansa knew it was foolish sticking so closely too it, but also knew it was her surest way home, and so she would risk it, she felt it was less risk than venturing on a different path and getting lost. She was scarily aware of how easy it would be to go in the complete wrong direction and end up in the Westerland’s or worse back in the Crownlands. Still, she had been lucky so far, and so as she climbed back on her horse and set off again, she sent a prayer up the Old Gods. Hopefully, they were watching.

* * *

He had fought the wench and won, leaving her winded on the floor before setting off. It had been easy to steal a horse from a nearby farm and make his way South, his sword at his side and his smile arrogant. He knew Brienne had a mission, to return him to Kings Landing in exchange for the Stark girls, and yet he did not want her help. He was a prisoner no longer, and he planned to make his way alone. He was also protecting Brienne a little, she was sworn to the Starks and would hardly be welcomed by his family.

And so, he had made his escape. She had fought well, but he was better, he had always been better. So, he made his way to the Capitol, to honour his vow. Him leaving Brienne did not mean he would abandon his oath. He would return the Stark girls to their Mother be he returned to Kings landing. It was his vow, his oath, and he would not break it. Everyone considered him to be an oathbreaker, a man without honour, he would prove them wrong.

It was with an easy smile he made his way South. A wash in a nearby river and eating the food of the forest had made him feel better. He was still a little thin and underfed but he would get back to fighting form in no time. He had hacked at his beard and hair with a dagger, and his golden locks were growing back out. He was starting to look like himself again after so long in captivity.

He was happy, no matter how tired and hungry. He would be home soon, home, back with his family, back with Cersei. He frowned a touch at that, but he still thought of her. He would be home with her soon, no longer a prisoner.

He knew he was close too; he was adjacent to Maidenpool now, not far at all. He wasn’t wary of the Kings Road, not with his sword at his side. He could take down any who dared face him, or merely declare his name and be left alone. He was not worried but tired, he had been sleeping in the forest for days now and he was hungry, thankfully he saw an inn ahead. He could go for a proper meal and a comfortable bed.

He was out of Riverlands territory now and so knew it would be safe to stay the night. He would miss another night of riding but Kings Landing was close now, he could rest a little before continuing on.

And so, he continued to ride, he felt in high spirits now he was no longer a captive. He would return home soon, to his bed, his posting as Lord Commander, his family, and Cersei … even though he frowned as he thought of her he missed her and longed for her smile…

* * *

It was late in the day, the sun having risen high in the sky, and dipping back down again for sunset to soon lead to the night. The weather was mild, warm but not stifling. The route was actually quite pretty, with rolling hills and forest. And yet, Sansa felt the opposite, she was sure she had never felt so tired.

Everything seemed to hurt; her backside from riding, her legs from gripping her horse, the cuts on her hands were stinging, and the cuts on her face hurt even more. She felt exhausted, and hungry, having only stopped twice more for some water and food. She had stopped for a good half an hour at a small stream in the forest, her horse needing the drink, and she rest, but no more. She was on the run for goodness sake, she couldn't take it easy. No matter how awful she felt she knew it was all worth it, worth it to get back to her family. And so, as awful as she felt she pressed on.

She had encountered only one other person on her journey so far. The young female septa had been kind and sweet, giving her some of her own food, and giving her a blessing for the journey ahead. The woman had told her off an inn less than a day’s ride from her, and Sansa had felt abject relief. She would make her first proper stop there, have a nice hot meal, a good night’s sleep, and a bath. She knew it was risky, but also important, if she continued to exhaust herself, she would become sloppy, and stupid and up her risk of getting caught.

But as the day continued on Sansa knew she had to stop. The inn may have only been half a day’s ride, but she couldn't stay awake until then. It had been well over a day since she had slept, and she felt it. Her head ached along with her body, and she felt a trembly kind of cold that only came with tiredness. So, she led her horse into the woods, and tethered it to a tree, using the creature to hide herself. She sat down at the root of the tree, and fell asleep almost instantly, relying on the fact that she was a very light sleeper and should wake easily soon to any nearby sound or disturbance. She had picked a place of good cover, and felt as safe as she could before dropping off.

Only two hours passed, and she had been roughly woken by the sound of a bird call. It hadn't even been very loud, but it had been enough to wake her from her slumber. It was darker out now, not quite pitch black, but it would be soon, she needed to make a move.

She felt better, far from at her best but more well rested. She took a few minutes to eat an apple and the rest of the bread, along with a banana and half her water skin. She forced herself to drink the rest before refilling from a fresh river that looked clean, the horse was happily drinking from it too. She then pulled herself onto the horse and made her way back to the view of the road.

Her resolve was hardened now she was feeling better, and she ignored the aches and pains as she rode forward. She ignored the hunger and the tiredness that clung to her and she continued forward, even as night fell. She had to go slow in the darkness, but she made good progress forward, and as the sun began to peek through the clouds, she could see the shadow of the inn in the distance.

She could do this, she _could_.

She would get home.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts? 
> 
> god I love this fic, will be updating regularly!
> 
> hope you enjoyed
> 
> speak soon


	2. Cage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is an update, I do have several chapters pre-written but they needed editing. 
> 
> pls enjoy and let me know if you do! I love this couple and this story and hope you do to!
> 
> songrecs: my body is a cage - peter gabriel (also check out the cersei video to this song on YT, is insane).

With a smile he placed a silver stag on the counter, ordered a meal, took a large jug of ale, and secured a bed for the night. He was sick of sleeping the forest, hunting rabbits, and drinking less than clean water. He wanted a warm meal, a hot bath, and a comfortable bed. The innkeeper had been wary of him when he had come in, and he could hardly blame her. He was covered in bruises, wore the clothes of a commoner, and looked as though he’d been roughed up more than once. She had no protest though as he paid her.

He didn’t care either, in a day or so he’d be back in Kings Landing, he’d be home, and he’d be back with Cersei.

He ordered his meal for an hour later and first went for a bath. He groaned as he lowered himself into the hot water and rested his head against the tub. It felt divine to be clean again and he took time in scrubbing his skin, washing the dirt away and getting clean. The innkeeper had spared him some clothes he slipped into as his own were washed and dried. They were scratchy and uncomfortable, but they were clean at least.

After he was dressed, he went to work on his appearance. He cut at his beard and ran a hand through his hair, it was longer now, and he made quick work of cutting it down, back to just above his chin. He looked more like himself now. Still a little too thin, a little gaunt and he had heavy dark circles under his eyes, but he looked more like himself now. He would be back to fighting strength soon he was sure once he returned home.

Once done he hurried back downstairs and tucked into his food. He washed it down with dark ale and ordered a second plate. He was gorged himself then, it had been months since he had eaten a warm meal and longer since he had eaten something good. It was fantastic, simple fare but to him it tasted like a feast.

“Where you off to then?” The innkeeper asked, a tough old woman she was, with a well-worn apron and a knowing smile.

“Kings Landing” He said with a smile, flashing his teeth. She rolled her eyes in response, huh, he supposed he wasn’t so handsome at the moment, too thin, too rough looking. It made sense, and he cared less about how he looked now, he had been through hell for months, he was just glad to be free.

“Ahh” The innkeeper said, refilling his cup then, “Sounds like a lot has been happening that ways” She said with a nod, “Looks like the Stark chit is said to marry Jaime Lannister, and the King is to marry Margaery Tyrell” She laughed then, “Looks like old Tywin is securing his dynasty!” She and he forced a laugh, she clearly didn’t know who he was, better to keep it that way.

As she walked off Jaime looked down at his food, his appetite gone in a matter of seconds. Had he heard her right? He was set to marry the Stark girl? The 16-year-old sister of a man who had held him captive for months? A little waif of a girl who had followed Joffrey around like a dog as he remembered…what? This had to be his fathers doing he knew it, his plan to secure the North, after all if Robb Stark fell then Sansa would be the key to securing Winterfell and the North. He saw the plan, but he had no idea why he had been elected for it.

And he had vowed to return Sansa home! He had promised, sworn, he had said he would return Sansa and Arya to their mother, not marry one of them, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t.

He didn’t want this, he didn’t want to be Lord, to have a keep to run and a wife to nag him. He didn’t want his own babes, he didn’t want any of that, he never had. He was Kingsguard for goodness sake he wasn’t even eligible for this. He didn’t want this, he wanted to stay in Kings Landing, with Cersei.

He felt angry then, had Cersei allowed this? Hadn’t his sister spoken to their father? Tried to reason with him that this was a bad idea? He didn’t want this, and he pushed his food away before taking a long drink. He did not want the Stark girl, he wanted Cersei, all he had ever wanted was Cersei, his twin, his other half … he frowned again then as he thought of his twin.

He loved her, he always would he was sure, but things had changed. He couldn’t think of her now without frowning, without feeling a twinge of something unpleasant. Months in a cell certainly did allow one to reflect …  
But he tried to ignore his head, listen to his heart … or other areas. Regardless of what he was feeling for Cersei at the moment that didn’t change the fact, he didn’t want the Stark girl, some welp of a bride who hadn’t even reached womanhood. He wanted no part of that, would have no part of that and he would tell his father that when he returned.

With a growl under his breath he attacked his plate again, he wasn’t hungry though, his mind a storm now as he thought over the situation but he knew it would be a long ride back to Kings Landing with no inns on the road now, he needed to get his fill, hell he might be able to do the journey in one go if he was well fed and rested. With a nod he pushed the food down, even though now it tasted like ash in his mouth.

He tried to calm himself, he would be home soon, and he could sort this mess out, speak with his father and reason with him. He couldn’t marry the Stark girl! She was a child, and why did she have to go him? Why couldn’t she be married to Tyrion or one of the Lannister cousins? He nodded to himself, he would reason with his father, untangle himself from this marriage mess and then… then he would sort out his feelings and thoughts for Cersei, which at the moment were equally in a mess.

He debated returning to his rooms then but instead he ordered more ale. He didn’t want to think anymore on this, in fact it was pointless to do so until he returned to Kings Landing, there was nothing to do until then. And so, he would drink, and drink, and drink, and then try to make sense of everything come morning.

* * *

The journey had taken longer than she had thought it would and by the time Sansa saw the inn in the distance she almost cried out in relief. The ‘barely a day’s ride’ as the septa had said had been well over a day and a half and she was sure she had never felt this exhausted. She felt simply awful. She had slept in the forest overnight and eaten over half of her food. She was tired, bruised, and hungry. She was desperate for a long bath, a hot meal, and a comfortable bed to sleep in.

Her eye stung from where she had scraped it during her escape as did her cut up hands. She wondered whether the inn would have some kind of healing salve, she hoped so, she didn’t think the cuts were deep enough to get infected, but one couldn’t be too careful.

She forced the horse forward then, the poor thing was as tired as she. She knew she couldn’t keep going, neither of them could, not for the moment. She decided she’d stay a night at the inn, allow herself and her dutiful horse a nights sleep and some good food. She’d take dinner, eat breakfast early and then heard back out. She knew it meant losing time, but Sansa needed a night’s rest in a bed. She couldn’t sleep on the side of the road, not tonight, not until she was properly rested.

The journey to her family was going to be harder than she thought.

Still, as tired as she was, she hadn’t lost her determination. The future away from Kings Landing she was the better she felt. She had escaped, she was truly free! She was finally away from the Lannister’s and there was no better feeling. She was away from the people who’d made her life miserable, had tormented and mocked her, had beaten, and ridiculed her, she was away from the monsters who had sought to destroy her family. She was away from them and she would never return, of that she was sure.

She would return to her brother or she would die trying, she would slit her own throat or jump from her horse before she went back to the Red Keep. She would either make it back home or she would die in the effort.

Covering a yawn with her hand she urged her horse forward and her mare trotted forward to the stable of the inn. She jumped down, and almost stumbled, gosh her legs were sore, but she managed to steady herself. She quickly grabbed her bag and blanket, her few meagre possessions before handing over the reins to the stable boy, though she kept her head ducked and hood up.

“Take good care of her, she’s tired, and she’ll need a good amount of food” Sansa spoke, keeping her voice low, and as the stable boy nodded in promise she turned away towards the inn, but not before giving her horse a pat on the side, her horse was her only companion now, she’d treat her well. She made her way into the inn as her horse was guided to food, god she needed food, and to rest, if the inn had no room she’d sleep on the floor or a bench, anything over than the cold hard ground of the forest.

She tugged her hood higher up as she walked into the inn and kept her gaze fixed on the ground. She doubted anyone here would know her, but at the same time she knew she could hardly be mistaken for a commoner. Though her dress was certainly dirty, edges already frayed, and the hem splashed with mud, she knew it was too fine to be mistaken for common. At least her cloak was rough, and she tugged it closer around her. She passed a mirror as she walked to the checking in desk and she grimaced as she looked at her reflection. She had a large black eye and a nasty cut on her cheek next to her eye. Still, as horrid as it looked and as sore as it was it was good, it made her seem more common. She’d be less easy to spot as highborn.

“Hello” She spoke timidly, not lowering her hood and only barely lifting her gaze as she approached the woman behind the desk. The innkeeper smiled kindly at Sansa which gave her some courage, though she still felt nervous. She took a silver stag from her pouch then and placed it on the desk, “I’d like a room please, dinner and a bath” She said, and the innkeep nodded.

“That’s all fine my dear” The woman said, still smiling kindly, “Those cuts look nasty though, I’ve got a salve here if you’ve got more coin” Sansa nodded, took another stag out and slid it over the desk. She took the large jar of salve and placed it in her bag, that would be good for her current injuries and any others that might crop up.

Sansa was thankful the innkeeper was kind and she gathered it was due to her current state. She looked a fright, and so the woman was nice, and Sansa warmed to that, she tried not to be too trusting, but it was nice to have someone simply be kind to her, and she felt a little warmer as the innkeeper stepped around the reception and put an arm around her to walk her to the dining tables.

“Thank you” Sansa spoke softly, and glanced toward the dining room then, it was quite empty, a few common men sat together and a young couple sat near the door, and there was one man alone hidden in shadow at the back. She was pleased it was quiet, she’d eat dinner here and then heard straight to her room, it’d be too risky to be out in the open for too long. “Erm, when is dinner?” She asked.

“Whenever you want my dear” The kind innkeeper said, leading her to the table. Sansa followed suit and took a table near the back, “Sit down here and we’ll get you some hot food. Would you like ale, water or wine to drink dear?”

“Water please” The innkeeper nodded and walked off to grab her supper and Sansa allowed herself a small sigh of relief. She was going to get a good night’s sleep, a proper meal and be able to rest easy for a night. After breaking her fast in the morning she’d buy some food for the road, fill up on water and then head back out. She was unsure how many more inns were ahead, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop in many, and so she wanted to be prepared. Perhaps she’d see about buying another blanket, it would get colder as she went North. She needed to be prepared if she ever hoped to make it back to her brother.

And she would, she was determined, no matter how hard it was, how tiring and how scary it was better than being back in the grasp of the Lannister’s, it would all be worth it if she made it back to her family.

The innkeeper returned them, placing down a cup with a large jug of water, as well as a large plate of meat, vegetables, potatoes, fresh rolls, and a gravy covering the lot. “Grab me if you need anything dear” She said before leaving, which Sansa was thankful for, she was too tired to come up with a story about herself now, a reason for travel, she was too tired to fabricate something. She wanted to eat, bath, and go to bed, three simple things, and yet right now they were luxuries to her.

She tucked into her food then and though it was simple fare it was fantastic, and she wasn’t quite as ladylike as she would normally be as she tucked in. It was delicious compared to the hard bread and mushy fruits she’d been eating at the roadside and she savoured the warm food. She regretted not stocking up on more food as she had left Kings Landing but she knew she wouldn’t have been able to. She was sure the reason her escape had worked was that it had been so last minute, she had given no one any indication of her plans (as they had been spontaneous), and so no one had been able to stop her for they hadn’t known.

Sansa took her time eating her food, for she would hide in her room for the rest of the night. She took her time eating it, enjoying it, she didn’t know when she’d be getting her next hot meal after all. After she finished, she drank two cups of water, and then retired upstairs, though she slipped two rolls in her pockets, either for later or for the road.

Her rooms were comfortable and warm, if plain, with a fire roaring in the hearth and a hot bath waiting for her. She lowered herself into it with a deep sigh, but not before leaving her dress in a little basket by the door, leaving it to be washed along with her small clothes she had placed in to. She only had one gown to wear and so she would take any opportunity to wash it so she could feel clean.

She lazed in the bath for a long time, simply revelling in the warm water, her head on the edge of the tub. Only when the water began to chill did she rouse herself and step out. She grabbed a robe left for her and snacked on the rolls she had taken from dinner, she wasn’t going to deny her hunger, she could buy more food in the morning.

Once she had bathed, her gown was returned, and she was comfortable she settled into bed. However, as soon as she slipped under the sheets she jumped back up and grabbed the butter knife from her bag, slipping it under her pillow. She grabbed her bag and shoved it under the sheets with her, as well as her blanket. She felt the knife under her pillow and felt reassured, though it would be useless if guards burst into the rooms, she could use it on herself.

For a moment she wondered, if Lannister guards did invade her rooms would she able to do it? Rake the knife across her throat (it certainly seemed sharp enough)? Would she have the courage? She almost feared her own answer … she could.

She would never return to the Lannister’s, never step foot back in the Capitol or the Red Keep, she’d sooner die. And so, she knew, as she clutched the knife under the pillow, she knew that if it came to that choice: die or return … the former would win every time.

And so, as she drifted off to sleep that was what her mind was filled with. As she had slept on the forest floor a night before she had thought of her freedom, of her joy at escaping the lions den, but as she slowly drifted off in the comfortable bed in the inn her mind was the opposite of that, as she thought about slitting her own throat to avoid the clutch of the Lannister’s. Her mind was on whether she could do it, whether she would do it if the time came.

She knew she would if she had to, she would never return to the Lannister’s, _never again._

* * *

He woke the next morning and he felt more like his old self. He was rested, fed, clean and he felt good for it. Months in captivity had affected him harshly, and not just physically. Physically he had low strength, had become weak, had lost so much training. But mentally? With hours and hours of self-realisation, of questioning every life decision and choice … it had been hell. He had thought of Cersei, of his father, of the Lannister name. Of his seed in Joffrey, Mycrella and Tommen, of Casterly Rock. He had thought about his position as a glorified bodyguard, he thought of all the choices he had made.

_‘Oathbreaker’_

_‘Kingslayer’_

_‘Man, without honour’_

He thought of what people thought of him, what they said about him. He had wept on one night, as he thought of all he had done, and all he had been given for it. Self-realisation was harsh, and yet he knew it had improved him … in some way at least, that he still had to figure out.

The other effects, the physical could be cured more easily. Once back in Kings Landing, he could get straight back on training, on swinging his sword, duelling, jousting, all of it. He smiled as he thought of the training grounds, of getting back to his former strength, he could hardly wait.

He dressed himself in his clean clothes, as threadbare as they were at least they were clean, and made his way down to break his fast. His bag was empty bar some money and he knew he needed to stock up on some supplies before leaving. If he wanted to do the trip to Kings Landing in one go he’d need to be stocked up, and he did want to do it in one trip, he would do it, he would ride hard to finally return home.

The morning meal was served, and he found himself in the dining room again, though only one other person was up this early alongside him. He glanced over and realised it was a girl, though her hood covered most of her face, though not that nasty black eye. He raised an eyebrow at that, it was odd for a girl to be travelling alone. For a moment he considered offering assistance but no, that might come across as predatory, and besides he had a home to return to.

He frowned at himself then, wasn’t that one of his vows? _‘Protect the weak’._ There were so many it was hard to remember them all, he thought with a smile to himself. Should he offer to help this wayward girl who was likely in danger if she were by herself … but he decided no, it might come across as creepy, and he doubted she would even accept his help.

He also had other innocents to help, the Stark girls. He may be returning home, and he intended to, but he knew first he had to return Sansa and Arya to their mother, as he had sworn.

This was one vow he would swear to keep.

He thought then of the Stark girls, though his mind focused on one, Sansa. That was a problem, for his father had decided he would marry the girl he had promised to return home. He would need to find a way around that, and he would. In a way it hit two birds with one stone, he’d return her to her mother and be free of his betrothal to her. With that he was slightly cheered, though he knew he still had to convince his father, which would not be an easy feat.

With a small sigh he tucked into his meal, the food was good, and he ate his fill. He had a long journey ahead of him after all.

* * *

She was first into the dining room come morning, even now when out of the lions den she slept little, though a good seven hours had been far more than she’d had in months and it was good for the road. She felt rested, more so than in a long time, and yet soon she had to head out, she could not afford to lose anymore time. She would set off as soon as she had eaten and wouldn’t stop again until it was dark. Tonight, she would sleep outside, and as much as she dreaded it, she knew it were necessary, stopping at every inn along the way was a sure way to get caught.

She broke her fast quickly, eating the food without really tasting it, for filling up was more important. She was a little wary as well, the only other person in the room; a man, kept glancing at her and she felt worried. She had been lucky so far, only encountering a few septa’s and merchants on the road, any men she had seen she had hurried quickly past, riding for a good hour before slowing down. She didn’t want any attention and so she tugged her hood further down, her heart beating faster until finally he seemed to look away. At that she let out a little breath of relief, but ate her meal even faster, quickly drank down two cups of water and made her way to the main desk, she needed to leave. Unfortunately, in her haste she hadn’t seen the man had finished before her and had made it to the desk first.

Still, she needed supplies and so she stood in line behind him, eyes on the floor, hood covering as much of her face as possible. She had used some salve on her hands and face that morning and they were still sore but a little better. Now she needed to buy some food, perhaps a blanket and then she would leave.

She had to be careful, she knew she was a pretty girl, knew the danger that came with travelling alone as a woman and she was scared, constantly even, but it was a risk she had to take if she wanted to return home, which she did, more than anything. Thus, as scared as she was, she had to risk it.

She heard the man in front of her say goodbye to the innkeep and then he turned to walk away, her gaze never left the floor, which turned out to be a mistake. In keeping her head down, she didn’t see him turn, didn’t realise he’d turned too close to her, and she felt him smack into her then, he clearly as confused as she. He hit into her and she hit the floor with a thud, a little moan leaving her lips as she felt some wind knocked out of her. Thankfully, her breathe caught quickly and she scrambled to her feet, ignoring the man’s hand to help her stand, as she made her own way to her feet quickly.

“My Lady I apologise” The man began to speak before he stopped abruptly and then she finally glanced up at him, realising too late as she looked at him and saw the confusion on his face, that her hood had slipped off. She felt panic in her throat as she realised, he could see her face, her distinctive hair, the necklace at her throat. Panic threatened to incapacitate her, and she felt almost sick as she took a step back from him, he had seen her, oh god, would he recognise her?

Her question was answered as she took a step back and his hand shot out to grip her wrist. Tears threatened her but none fell as she felt pure panic race up her spine, her breathing quickened and heartbeat like a hummingbird against her chest. Her question was answered as he spoke and Sansa knew, she knew she couldn’t panic, she had to get away, get away now, though she was immobile as he spoke.

“Lady Sansa, what are you doing here?”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dramaaaa
> 
> so thoughts? let me know what ya think, I love comments. 
> 
> see ya soon


	3. Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is another update, hope you enjoy, as said before I have several pre-written chapters I am just editing them. 
> 
> I have had awesome feedback to this story so far, pls keep it coming it is soooo appreciated. 
> 
> songrecs: the scientist - coldplay/emily james version is dope too

_Dread._

That was all she could feel, it rushed through her alongside the blood in her veins. In the pit of her stomach she could feel it, in the lump in her throat, in the quickening of her heart. The fear invaded her senses, made it almost impossible to breathe, made her feel like she might collapse, swoon, and hit the floor. It was as though time had stopped, like everything was in slow motion, she could hear her pulse in her ears, could barely hear the chatter that broke out around her.

She had been so careful, so careful and yet she had crumbled, unable to stick it out in the forest. She had thought she was doing well but clearly stopping so soon had been foolish, but goodness, what were the odds? The odds that she would run into Jaime Lannister, Kingslayer and one of the few people who knew her face. What kind of injustice from the gods was this? She had been discovered, and her run, her escape, her hope to get back to Robb, it was all dashed now, all because of the man in front of her.

The innkeeper looked on in shock as the Kingslayer spoke her name, as did the rest of the patrons of the inn, though there were few this early they gossiped as they realised a noble woman was in their midst. Sansa knew she’d receive no help from anyone here, they were southerners, and this close to Kings Landing she had no allies, no friends. She stole a glance at the innkeep and she shook her head, she had been right, she would get no help here.

She was alone.

“Lady Sansa?” He spoke again, and her gaze returned to him, her expression still frozen with fear, eyes like a deer in the headlights, hands shaking by her sides, she felt like she might vomit even, that soon she’d be back to Kings Landing, dragged by the Kingslayer.

He looked worse than she remembered. When he had ridden into Winterfell he had been glowing, all long blonde hair and a dashing but arrogant smile of white pearly teeth. She had thought him handsome before her attention had been fixed on Joffrey. Now he looked underfed, tired, his hair was hung rather than ruffled across his shoulders, he did not look like the Kingslayer she remembered, but the grip he had on her wrist was hard, strong, he was still strong, much stronger than her and she knew her chances of escaping him, of escaping the Lannister’s twice were slim to none.

Still, she had to try.

She would not be dragged back to the Capitol, to the lap of the Lannister’s. Her life in Kings Landing had been bad enough before, she couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be now after her escape attempt. She would hope to be executed, to end the suffering but she knew they’d keep her alive, their little northern hostage. But it would be so much worse, they’d probably force her into marriage, she’d lose what little freedoms she had, had. What would be the point in living then? She knew she’d rather die than return.

And so, she had to escape, and as she looked up at the Kingslayer, for she was tall, but he was taller, she knew escaping him would not be easy, not at all. Escaping on the road would be hard, for there would be nowhere to run on the flat stretch of road between here and Kings Landing, beside the forest which she did not know well. No, it would be too risky. She would need to escape now, though that presented its own risks, what other choice did she have? She would not return to Kings Landing, her option was to escape, or die trying.

Now was the time, she had no choice, she had to try. And so, without flinching, without uttering a word to answer his question, without an answer for his bewildered expression she let out a bloodcurdling scream, an awful shriek of pain, of horror, of fear; all the things she was feeling. She was sure it would have shattered the windows if they were weaker.

It vibrated off the walls of the inn, her cry and she saw those around her cringe, people squealed, glasses dropped, and Jaime, Jaime Lannister flinched, and that was all she needed, that was her opening and what she had hoped for with her scream. He flinched and she took her chance.

She tugged her arm free of his strong grip, and whirled around, her skirts fanning behind her as she ran for the door, she was fast, outside and to the horses in less than a minute. She made a beeline for the stables, for her horse which had been washed and fed. She had her bag over her shoulder, she just had to make it to her horse and then ride hard, ride North, ride towards her freedom.

* * *

Lady Sansa Stark?

Of all the things he had expected to run into on his journey South; bandits, northerners chasing him down, soldiers, all sorts, he would not have expected to run into the Stark girl. He could hardly believe it was her, for he had barely known her, spared her a glance or two before and had not even spoken to her. But he was sure it was her, that fiery red hair made her stand out, and was so like her mothers, whom he had spoken to many times. It was her, the red hair, the grey gown, the delicate features, it was all a dead giveaway. The bruises and scrapes on her face and hands spoke of how she was in an inn on the side of the Kings Road, she’d escaped, escaped his family and was on the run, as was he.

He almost admired her for it, for having the guts to do something so dangerous. From what he had heard of Sansa she was a perfect Lady, courteous, kind, and dutiful, dreaming of a handsome Prince of southern Knight with a pretty song to sweep her off her feet. That did not match the scared girl in front of him, who’d risked her life to run from his family. It was ballsy and not something he would have expected from her.

He understood her motives and yet he was surprised she had managed to make it so far. She was a beautiful girl, anyone with eyes could see that, and though she had attempted (poorly) to cover it, she was of high birth; how had she made it this far on the Kings Road? How was she not dead in a ditch somewhere or the captive of some bandit or raper? She was lucky, _very_ lucky.

Not that, that was relevant for the moment. He looked across at her, and he could see how terrified she was, and for a moment the how’s of how she had got here were not relevant, now he just had one question to ask himself.

What did he do next?

Did he drag her back to Kings Landing kicking and screaming? Did he return her to his family as a hostage, as his family would want him to? As would be important for their side of the war effort? That would be the logical thing to do, but it was not that easy.

He had sworn a vow.

And so, did he take her back to her mother? The woman who had freed him in exchange for her daughters? Did he follow his family loyalty to the Lannister’s, or did he honour his vow and return the Stark girl to her mother, for he would not have his freedom without that vow? What loyalty did he follow? The one to family, or the one to his vow? Vows and loyalty, always so confusing, as he had told Lady Catelyn…

_‘So many vows, they make you swear and swear. Defend the King, obey the King, keep his secrets, do his bidding, your life for his. But, obey your father, love your sister. Protect the innocent, defend the weak, respect the gods, obey the laws. It’s too much. No matter what you do, you’re forsaking one vow for another’_

So, which vow did he follow? Which loyalty did he follow?

He was snapped, quite violently from his thoughts though as he heard a scream, a shattering scream so full to the brim of fear and pain he wasn’t sure it was real. He flinched in response to such a painful sound, and he realised the flinch was what the Stark girl had hoped for when she had opened her mouth, and in an instant she was gone, out the door, skirts whirling behind her.

He followed her immediately, he couldn’t let her escape.

It didn’t matter for the moment what he intended to do with her, he could not let her go it alone. He was a Knight, and any Knight worth his oils would protect a vulnerable girl. He may be dishonoured, but he had a duty to protect the weak and Lady Stark certainly fell into that category. She had been lucky so far on the road, but luck would not keep her safe forever.

He didn’t want to think about what horrors she would face on the road if she were alone. All he knew was that she would never make it back to her family, she probably wouldn’t last more than a few days. Death would be the least painful option if he let her go it alone.

And so, he followed her quickly, and he rounded the corner to the stables swiftly. He was her straight away, trying to climb onto her horse with the aid of the stable boy. She was quick he had to give her that, but he was quicker. He moved forward, fast and pushed the stable boy to the side before wrapping his arms around the girl’s waist and he pulled her down from the horse, his arms like bands of steel around her middle.

He ignored her shrieks, her cries, her pitiful attempt to fight him. He held strong as she kicked, punched, and lashed out, she didn’t even bruise him. He was too strong for her, and she soon realised that, and her fighting turned to despair, and the sobbing began. The sound of her cries made him cringe, but he did not let go.

Jaime had never been good with crying women; Cersei rarely did such a thing and he was not used to it. He could only hold onto her, to stop her running as she sobbed, as she shook against him from the intensity of her cries. He did not attempt to offer any comfort; he knew she would reject it.

“Please” She managed to splutter out between her cries and with a twinge of guilt he ignored and a small sigh he moved his arms, scooped her to his chest. He heard her protest, but he ignored her and carried her into the main stable, it was vacant, and he moved inside quickly. He sat her down on a stack of hay and took a seat next to her. He was closer to the door, and it was only when he sat down did he let her go.

He was pleased to see she didn’t try to run then, she was Eddard Stark’s daughter after all, he knew she wasn’t stupid and so she knew trying to get past him would be futile. He hoped they could talk, for they needed to, but she just continued to cry, her only defence in the face of her fear. That too he didn’t understand, the few times he had been scared, it was not tears that came to him but determination.

He could hardly blame her though, she was quickly terrified he would take her back to Kings Landing, to his family. As he watched her, doubled over, sobbing continually, wailing almost in pain, he knew his decision was made.

He would take her home.

She was an innocent, a crying girl who just wanted to go back to her family. Hadn’t he wanted the same thing for months? How could he fight so hard to return home and yet not let her do the same?

And then there was the vow, the vow he had made to her mother. He had broken so many vows now, too many to count, but perhaps he could honour this vow, the one he had made with Lady Catelyn, and the vow to protect the weak. Perhaps that needed to come first, perhaps that could come first. Perhaps this was a vow he could honour.

He would take her home; he knew as she sobbed there was no other option. And perhaps, in taking her home, in reuniting her with her family and getting her away from his, perhaps he would regain some of his honour.

* * *

It was over.

She had known as much the second his arms had wrapped around her waist and he had pulled her from her horse. It was over, finished, her pitiful escape attempt was dead before it had even really started. She had experienced a few precious moments of freedom but that was all they would be, a few sacred moments before returning to her cage, though she knew when she returned her cage would be even smaller than before.

He would force her to go back, to go back to his evil family and she would be a prisoner again. They’d marry her off, force her to birth some Lannister spawn and then kill her probably. At least she wouldn’t be forced to suffer her entire life, that was the only silver lining she could find, that surely eventually they’d just kill her. How depressing, the only thing to look forward to now would be her death.

But…perhaps that could come sooner. For what would she have to live for if she returned to Kings Landing? Nothing. So maybe, she should take some control, the small part of control she had left. Instead of going back she could take control, end her suffering now, keep some part of her. She’d rather die than return, than marry a Lannister, than birth evil Lannister children. No, she’d sooner die, and perhaps, perhaps she should.

She continued to sob, for she had no control over it now, but she managed to calm a little, calm enough to reach for her back at her side. She shot the Kingslayer a side glance, she would have to be quick very quick.  
And she was.

In a second, she reached into her bag and withdrew the butter knife she had packed on the top, it had a serrated edge, certainly enough to do the job. And so, she jumped to her feet, to the back of the stable, away from the Kingslayer and placed the knife at her neck, the sharp edge of the blade at her throat. Her hand trembled but she held it in place, held it firm. She would not go back to the Lannister’s; she’d die before she let them take her.

“Lady Sansa” He spoke then, following her to stand, his hands held in front of him, a sign of peace and surrender. His eyes were on her hand more than her face then, on her throat where she held the weapon that would end her life. Sansa had always hated knives, swords, weapons, Arya had loved them, she had hated any kind of weapon, but now, now it would end her suffering. She tried to tighten her grip then as Jaime took a step closer and she took a step back, but it proved impossible, she was already gripping it tightly enough she might injure her hand from the force.

“Stop” He spoke, gently, as though speaking to a wounded animal, she supposed that was how he saw her, wounded, desperate, a girl so scared and so at her end that she’d rather slit her own throat than return to Kings Landing.

“Stay back” She said, a tremor in her voice, eyes wide with fear, hands almost shaking. She pushed the blade closer to her throat as she took a step back from him again, though he followed with another step forward. “Get back” She said again, her voice breaking a little, and yet he did not relent with another step forward. She followed with another step back and she realised the stable wall would soon be at her back, nowhere to go, only one thing to do.

“You have no reason to hurt yourself” His voice remained gentle, but she didn’t trust it, didn’t trust him. She would never trust a Lannister, not ever again, she had learned that lesson the hard way. “I will take you home”

For a moment she was almost stupid enough to hope, to hope he was telling the truth and she felt that flicker of hope in her heart, like the last flame of a candle or last dying ember of a fire, and yet it was gone, extinguished as soon as it had came. He was Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, murderer, betrayer, Lannister. He had broken every vow he had ever sworn! Killed his King, attacked her father, gods if the rumours could be believed he had spawned Joffrey! He could not be trusted, not now, not ever, he was lying to her.

And so, she shook her head, no steps back to take now, but there was only one thing she could do and she took a deep breath, she had to do this, she had no choice, better than returning to the Capitol.

“Liar” She hissed at him, though there was no malice to her tone, only fear which had invaded everything.

“I made a vow to your mother” He said, hands still held up, voice still soft, it sounded odd, his tone free of arrogance, she found it suited him, “She set me free, in exchange I swore a vow I would return you to her, to her side and your brothers” He took another step forward, “I swear it, on the old gods and new, on my honour”

She almost laughed then, but instead her voice was panicked, though she looked at him with contempt as she spoke, “You have no honour” It was vicious, and she took another deep breath, and another, it was time. And so, trembling, she pressed down harder on her neck, and prepared to rake it across her throat. She was ready, she was going to do it.

She just wasn’t fast enough.

His face had contorted into anger for just a second at her words, but then eh was on her, he was too fast, moved too fast for her to act. He had the knife out of her hand before she could even move before she could do more than make a shallow cut at her throat. He yanked the weapon away from her and she tried to hold onto it, but he was too strong for her and had it out of her hands without a fight. As he took it from her she felt a little trickle of blood at her neck which she clapped a hand over as she sunk to the floor to her knees. Now it was over, now she’d be a prisoner once more.

She looked up at him as she knelt, why couldn’t he have let her die? On her own terms? Why couldn’t he have let her have her choice? Because he’s a Lannister she thought bitterly, they were all evil. She looked up at him then, almost resigned though fear remained in her expression, in her blue gaze, his gaze was hard as he looked down at her, stood over her.

And yet, his expression seemed to soften and he held out a hand for her to take. She looked at his hand but did not take it, she would not take it, not from him, her escape may be over but she wasn’t going to come back to Kings Landing willingly, if he wanted to take her he could drag her.

She willed herself not to cry, as she trembled on her knees. It would do no good to cry now. How many tears had she shed in the Red Keep? And what good had they done her? Again and again she had sobbed as Joffrey’s guards beat her, as Cersei sneered and the people gossiped, and yet they made no difference. Tears were of no use, not here. Still, she couldn’t stop them, as several trickled down her cheeks, it was all she could do to stop herself from bawling.

“Sansa” He spoke again, his voice still gentle, hand out, as he took a step forward to her, “Come now, I won’t ask again”

She knew she had no choice, none at all, she would not escape now, he was taking her back to Kings Landing, lying to get her to go back easily so he wouldn’t have the fuss, he probably thought she was stupid enough to believe his lies about taking her home, once she had been, and for a second she had been, though it hadn’t been stupidity, just hope.

She didn’t take his hand though. Instead she pulled herself to her feet, tried to stand with some dignity, even as the tears continued to trickle. She just wiped away at them, nodded, and didn’t say a word before following him out. She would return, try to keep some dignity, there was nothing else now.

“You should have let me die” She mumbled, before she followed him, back, back to her cage.

* * *

He knew she didn’t believe him and hell he could hardly blame her. He knew she thought he was lying as he lifted her onto the horse, pulled himself up onto it and behind her (he could hardly let her ride by herself, he didn’t fancy a horse race and he knew she’d bolt the second she saw the chance). He knew she thought him an oathbreaker, man without honour, liar, he hoped perhaps he could prove her wrong.

His resolve had hardened more and more throughout their fight. When she had pulled that knife on herself … it had shown just how desperate she was, how scared at the idea of going back to Kings Landing, that she saw death as a better alternative … it spoke to her fear. Sure, he was certain she wouldn’t have been able to actually kill herself, slitting a throat was harder than people assumed but the fact she’d been willing … the intent had been there, well that had finalised his decision. How could he take her back after that?

No, he couldn’t. He would return her to her family, that decision was made, he’d take her back.

Still, he said nothing more to her about it for he knew it was pointless, she would not believe him, and what had he done to make her trust him? She didn’t know him outside the stories she had heard. It was pointless to try and convince her, she would realise he was truthful as they made their way North, she would realise he intended to honour the vow, that he still had some honour left.

He rode them out of the inn, and as he did so he took a glance at the road. The road led back to Kings Landing, to his family, to Cersei and yet as much as he wished he could take it his resolve did not waver, if it had he would only need to listen to Sansa sniffling to harden it again, or her words, _‘you have no honour’._ That had hurt, and he knew he needed to prove her wrong.

And so, with one last look he turned them around. He noticed the Stark girl lift her head, look back at him for a second, and he met her gaze then, gave her a nod, an expression that said, _‘I told you so’._ That made her drop her gaze, but her tears seemed to stop, as he turned them, and carried on forward, to the North.

He would regain his honour, he would, and Sansa Stark was the key to it.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, thoughts? 
> 
> ahh jaimes decision always makes me smile, this whole chapter made me smile! I hope it made you smile too. 
> 
> pls let me know if you like this story so far and where it is going. 
> 
> speak soon


	4. Attention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we gooo. I am editing this story and it is making me fall in love with it allll over again. 
> 
> also working on another jaime/sansa wip (will be v short, 3-5 chapters), so keep an eye out for that!
> 
> help, I am a starting wip addict. 
> 
> songrecs: centre of attention - jackson waters

"Well, where the hell is she?!”

Everyone at the table flinched as his fist hit the table, rattling the cups and the wood underneath them. Tyrion could hardly blame those who flinched or the cups for rattling, he only managed to remain stoic and seemingly unfazed through experience. Long ago he had become used to his father’s fury, Cersei was the only other person at the table who didn’t look terrified, though she was nervous that was clear. Everyone else looked ready to piss or soil themselves, but again Tyrion couldn’t blame them, his father was downright terrifying when angry.

And good god he was angry.

Just three mornings earlier they had all sat down for another small council meeting, Tyrion had yawned, picked at food, and poured himself wine under his father’s glare. They had only just started to discuss the affairs of the realm before they had been interrupted by a nervous Lannister guard, a mousy little handmaiden accompanying him, whispering hushed and hurried words to Tywin Lannister, Hand of the King.

Tyrion had realised it was serious as his father’s expression had gone from stern to furious in just a few seconds. Tyrion had seen such an expression of anger on his father only recently too, when news had broken of Robb Stark’s marriage to Roslin Frey at the Twin’s, reaffirming the alliance of the Riverland’s and the North. His father had been furious then, but more furious now. The mysterious news had him sweeping out of the room without a word, but they had all found out shortly after and his father’s anger had been understandable.

The little bird had flown the nest, or her cage if one were to be more accurate. Honestly, Tyrion somewhat admired her for it, Lady Stark had taken control of her own destiny and had fled her prison, he hadn’t fought she had the bravery, nor the determination. He did admire her for it, even if it meant they now had no leverage over Robb Stark, and a slimmer chance at winning the war now. He was also worried too, both for his family and his own head but also for Lady Sansa. She would no doubt take the Kings Road and he shuddered to think of the horrors she might face, as miserable as she had been in Kings Landing she likely would have been safer behind the walls of the Capitol, than alone roaming the countryside where no doubt trouble would befall her.

Apparently, she had fled in the early hours of the morning. Servants had gone to wake her only to find her bed stuffed with pillows, a handful of her things gone and a rope of sheets hanging out of the window. She had taken a horse, snuck past the guards and she was long gone, which meant they were well and truly fucked. They had never had Arya, the youngest Stark girl, and now the eldest, their one hostage against Robb Stark had escaped.

It had been two days now, and already search parties had been sent out, told to ride hard and bring her back. Five men working the gate the night she’d snuck past had been executed, their heads on pikes. Rumour had it Joffrey had killed two servants when he had found out his future plaything had ran from him. Overall, it was an utter disaster, even Tyrion couldn’t find any amusement in it, which truly was saying something.

They were no closer to a solution, even as various members of the Council began to speak up, clearly trying to keep his father’s temper at bay. For fucks sake the meeting was taking place at night, evidently his father really was desperate for solutions if he had kept them all up to get their input and his temper were unlikely to be cooled, not unless one of them revealed Sansa Stark from behind their seat, alive, well and more importantly back in the grip of the Lannister’s.

“What about the search parties?” Mace Tyrell, the fat flower, spoke up and Tyrion rolled his eyes before reaching for his wine. God, it was a nightmare. Search parties of course had been dispatched in every possible direction and yet none had found her. Spies couldn't seem to locate her; it was as though Sansa Stark had vanished. Tyrion again felt some admiration for her, but he knew they were in trouble. They needed to find her and soon.

A vicious glare shot at Lord Tyrell was enough to say the search parties had been unsuccessful and Lord Baelish nor Varys even spoke, neither having any luck either. Tyrion was doubtful they would come across her. At best she was still on the run, perhaps had been smart enough to hop on a ship up North, or at worst she was already dead, raped and murdered on the Kings Road, buried in a shallow grave somewhere. Either way, he doubted they would find her, but they needed to, especially before Robb Stark found out.

"On the plus side my Lord it seems Robb Stark still doesn't know about his sister fleeing" Varys spoke up then, a small bit of good news he supposed.

"Yes, but how long for?" His father retorted immediately, his fists positively shaking with anger, "The only reason he hasn't found out is because he's at the Twins celebrating his marriage. As soon as he emerges, he'll find out, and he'll have men on mass looking for her!" He said with a shake of his head, turning away and even snapping to the point of pouring himself some wine, now that was a surprise, Tyrion and Cersei were the drinkers of the Lannister family, though with such stress he wasn’t surprised his father had been driven to alcohol.

"Well it stands to reason that if we haven't found her, neither will her brother" Baelish spoke up then and Tyrion again rolled his eyes, unable to stop himself speaking up this time.

"If she makes it to the Riverlands or even close to there then he'll find her" He said with a shake of his head, "Every man in the Riverlands and up knows who she is, knows what she looks like thanks to her distinctive Tully looks and the fact Robb Stark looks just like her" He said reaching for his cup, "We can't find her because none of our men nor common people in this area know what she looks like. The second she makes it to the Riverlands?" He paused then slashing his hand in a sideways motion, "She'll be gone for good"

"Tyrion is right" His father spoke again, and Tyrion almost laughed, god, things really were dire if his father was agreeing with him, it surely must be the end of days, "Time is of the essence here”

"What about Jaime?" It was Cersei who spoke then, she had been unusually quiet in this meeting, but Tyrion understood why. She was practically to blame for the Stark girl fleeing, having been the girl's guardian here in Kings Landing, she was likely remaining silent so not to bring her father's ire toward her. "Shouldn't he be more of a priority over the Stark welp?!" She said with a scowl, and Tyrion shot her a look, bad timing.

Evidently his father thought the same and shot his daughter a murderous glare, "Jaime is a grown man, Sansa Stark is a girl. Jaime can take care of himself, whereas if we don't find Sansa, she'll end up dead in a ditch somewhere, or worse back with her brother!" He said furiously, before making a dismissing motion

None of them needed to be told twice and they all hurried for the door, Tyrion included, walking as fast as his little legs would carry him. He did not want to remain behind as an outlet for his father’s temper, no. There was little they could do now, either the search parties would find her, or they wouldn’t, either she would make it back to Robb Stark or never be heard from again. Tyrion hoped they found her, but even if it were against his family interests he hoped if they couldn’t find her she returned to her brother, she were an innocent, he hated to think of her being hurt.

He felt a little twinge of worry then before hurrying down the steps to the Tower of the Hand, there was nothing he could do to help Sansa now, or find her, he would go and see Shae, that would make him feel better, and she could use some comfort, she was worried about the Stark girl too.

* * *

They had been on the road for less than half a day together and she was giving him the silent treatment. Ever since the moment he had lifted her onto the horse, took the reigns and rode them North she had remained completely mute. He wasn’t sure if it was because she was upset, angry or in shock he was honouring his word and had directed them to the Riverlands rather than Kings Landing, but either way she remained quiet.

For the moment that was fine with him, he could use some quiet, was used to it after months of solitude in a cage in her brother’s camp. And so he was happy with the quiet, and then night began to fall, the sky darkened and he took them into the forest off the Kings Road, they were near the border of Rosby now so the forest shouldn’t be too dangerous, and even if there were bandits or robbers he could stop them, would stop them. He may not be in peak physical condition, but he was still a talented swordsman, one of the best, he’d stop any who tried to harm them.

That didn’t worry him, no what was making him nervous was what was to come, he knew he and Sansa needed to talk. He didn’t look forward to it, but it was necessary now, to get on the same page with her before they carried on.

And so, once they were deep enough into the forest but not too deep to get lost or encounter wild animals he jumped down from the horse and then lifted her at the waist and pulled her down. He grabbed his bag and tethered the horse to the nearest tree, and he watched as Sansa grabbed her blanket and satchel, well at least she wasn’t bolting as soon as he put her down.

They had good coverage in the forest for the night, and he had picked a safe spot next to a pond of fresh water. It was a good spot and so he dumped his bag on the floor before turning around to the girl his father had envisioned, he marry, ugh he didn’t want to think on that now. No, now they needed to talk, though frankly he had no idea what to say. He felt odd … awkward, and that was not a feeling he was used to, but then, what the hell was he supposed to say to her?

Thankfully, she saved him the trouble of starting an awkward conversation by speaking first, “Where are you taking me?” She asked, an accusatory edge to her tone, and his green gaze met her blue he could tell she was trying to be fierce. He had to resist a laugh at that, though he couldn’t hide his smirk.

He couldn't help it, his amusement. She was a child, and yet speaking to him as though she was a warrior! And yet he had to admit as he glanced over her … she was no child anymore. She was taller now, still shorter than him, but taller, she was womanlier as well, the childish features gone, replaced by cutting features that screamed of beauty. She was a woman grown, a very beautiful woman in truth … though that was of no consequence to him, beautiful, ugly … he didn't care. Still, she was, and she was certainly not the child he had last seen in Kings Landing. No, not at all.

Still, fierce was something she wasn't, even as she screwed her fists by her sides and glared at him. Still, he knew they needed to talk and making fun of her would win him no points, and so with an attempt to make things comfortable he sat himself down, his back to one of the trees, leaning against it, and indicated for her to do the same. She did, after several minutes of deliberating, sat opposite him, crossing her arms, and glaring at him until he spoke up.

"I'm taking you to Riverrun, from there I can return you to Lady Stark" He said, it was the truth after all, he would take her as far North as need be … though he hoped it wasn't too far, he had never been a fan of the cold. No, he wanted to be home as soon as possible, back to Cersei’s side…even if they did have things to discuss. He also had no idea how he was going to explain his delayed return, but that was a thought for another day, he had bigger priorities right now.

"Liar" She spat back at him, jerking him from his thoughts. He rolled his eyes at that, he knew she wasn't stupid, so why was she acting like it?

"And where else could I be taking you Lady Stark?" He asked, his tone turning harder; he did not like being questioned, especially not by a slip of a girl he was trying to help. "In case you hadn't noticed, or perhaps your grasp on geography is that bad, Kings Landing is in the opposite direction" He said, his tone heavy with sarcasm, "We're near Rosby now, if I wanted to take you back to the Capitol, I'm certainly going the wrong way about it aren’t I?”

He saw her expression lighten then, the anger and contempt replaced with something of shock … and dare he say it, a little bit of hope? She did look a little hopeful, chewing down on her lip evidently contemplating his words. He could hardly blame her for being in disbelief, and yet he supposed he'd just have to prove his intentions with each day travelling North, no matter how much he wanted to return home rather than make his way into the frigid cold.

And god did he want to return home. Issues aside he wanted Cersei, he wanted back to his comfortable bed and servants to cook his food. He wanted proper clothes, proper weapons, a training yard to practice and a hot bath every night. God, he wanted to go back, but that was not an option for the moment … and if he thought hard perhaps not an option ever again. If just one spy saw him returning Sansa to Riverrun … he'd be condemned and punished for treason. He didn't believe his father would ever execute him, but he'd have to penalize him. No, it was possible in taking Sansa Stark up North he was giving up on any hope of going home … god, what was he doing?

'Regaining your honour' He thought to himself. He had made a vow to Lady Catelyn, a vow to return her daughters to her. He could start with Sansa, go back, and get Arya later. He had made a promise, he would uphold that promise, even if it meant losing everything. He may have broken many a vow but not this one, not this time, his honour may have been beyond repair, but he knew if he took the easy way out and returned home as he so wanted to … his honour would be lost to him forever.

"But why?" Again, he was jerked from his thoughts as Sansa evidently found it in herself to speak, her words quieter, less hostile, and yet still suspicious, shocked. That almost made him smile, and he found himself shrugging his shoulders…though he knew his own reasoning.

"I promised your mother" He said simply, as though that was the only explanation needed, and for the moment it was. He didn't need to explain to the Stark girl that this was his one last attempt at salvaging his honour, redeeming himself. It would seem idiotic to her, potentially losing his home, ending up a captive once more all to try and regain honour, but it was simply something he needed to do. God, it seemed idiotic to him! But it was what he had to do, if he hoped to live with himself for the rest of (however short it may be), his life. "I promised I'd return you and your sister. First I'll get you back to her and then return to Kings Landing and retrieve Arya"

"She's not in Kings Landing" He heard her whisper, and he lifted his head to look at her again, his eyes widening, his eyebrows knitting together as he waited for her to continue. "She's been missing since my father died, no one has seen her in months" Well that was certainly an inconvenience. He wanted to push further, to ask for more details, since he had promised to return not one Stark girl but both … but the look on Sansa's face as she had talked about her sister … he decided it could wait for now.

"But why?" She asked again, looking at him properly now, and again he could see that expression, one of hope, vulnerability, surprise, and he found himself almost smiling again, almost but not quite as he answered her.

"It's just what I need to do" Was all he offered before turning away, reaching for his bag to retrieve what little food he had left to make them dinner – it would be a long night, the dark having just settled, but they needed to eat and sleep to continue on the morrow. To continue to Riverrun.

* * *

As he turned away Sansa did too, to her own bag, pulling out the small hunk of bread and solitary apple she had left, she had planned to buy food at the inn but hadn’t been able to before meeting Ser Jaime, now she had little left and her stomach was knotted with hunger. But she wasn’t thinking on that, not after what she had just heard.

Once she turned away, she could finally relax her expression, let the shock take over, as that was her primary feeling … shock and nothing else.

When he had grabbed her, bundled her on his horse she hadn't believed a word he was saying. She was sure he was returning her to the Capitol, and she had been debating the best way to either escape again or fling herself from the beast when it was going fast in hopes of ending it all. She hadn't been able to believe him riding the other way, remaining silent in surprise and hope. But now? Now she had asked? …. She still couldn't believe it, she just couldn't, it made no sense to her, none at all.

He was a Lannister! And yet, he was going against the Lannister's, against his own family, ‘Family, duty, honour’ were her mother’s words and she knew the Lannister’s were all about the first one. By taking her back to her mother he was depriving the Lannister's of a key bargaining chip and hostage, he was going against his own family. It made no sense, none whatsoever and he had hardly made sense of it for her in his explanation.

She had no idea why he was doing this; she couldn't even thank him because she wasn't sure if this weren’t all some elaborate ruse! Part of her was wondering if he was whisking her away to Casterly Rock instead, or perhaps to the nearest castle to await his father’s men. And yet … he wasn't riding in plain sight hoping to be seen, he was hiding them, he was taking them in the opposite direction of any castles or holdfasts, he was being cautious and keeping them hidden. It made no sense, and it hurt her head to think of it, and to think of his explanation.

Could he be telling the truth?

Part of her so wanted to believe it, so wanted to believe he was taking her home. It would take such a weight off of her and vastly improve her chances. She had resolved to do this journey alone, to endure the cold, the hunger, the fear, to brave the horrors of the Kings Road and beyond, and to do so alone. The idea of having someone, anyone to help her, it was a relief. Even if he were a Lannister, she knew Jaime could protect them better than practically anyone else. He would no doubt increase her chances of returning home tenfold. And yet, she still couldn’t quite believe it, not yet.

He was a Lannister, and she had promised herself over and over again in Kings Landing; never trust a Lannister, never again, not after all they'd done to her. She couldn't, she wouldn't, never again.

"Are you hungry?" His words interrupted her thoughts then and she took a deep breath before turning back to him, still holding the hunk of bread and the lone apple. She could see he'd put out his food, some cheese, some strips of meat and a larger chunk of bread, evidently for them to share. She looked up at him as she could see him rummaging around in his bag for water, and she pulled her own water skin out before placing it down on the forest floor, along with the food … she supposed they could share.

But once she'd placed them down, she drew back, sitting herself back against the tree once more, a healthy distance from him. She didn't trust him, not in the slightest … and though she thought he wouldn't hurt her, she was still very, very wary. She didn't even know why she thought he wouldn’t hurt her, perhaps it was still her past idiotic view on Knights? Either way she believed he wouldn’t harm her, but she remained wary all the same.

Mainly she was wary about his motivations, for she couldn't wrap her head around why he was doing this. She would have asked again but didn't want to anger him. She didn't really know anything about the Kingslayer, never having really met him in the past, so only knowing what she'd heard. One thing she'd heard was that he had a legendary temper and she didn't want to be the one to ignite it, and thus she remained quiet.

But he seemed to see through her as he spoke, reaching forward with his dagger to cut the food into equal portions, speaking as he did so, "I know you're trying to wrap your pretty little head around why I'm doing this, but my advice?" He paused then to look up at her and she found herself trapped in his gaze, that green gaze identical to his sisters, and yet his didn't fill her with revulsion as the Queen's did, it wasn’t even any kinder, but the malice was missing, "Don't. Just accept it, trust it, it'll be much easier for you if you don’t stress over it" It was then he looked away again to cut up the food.

She couldn't trust him, not a chance, but could she trust his motivations? She couldn't let her guard down, but perhaps she could try and accept what he had said? And she would see the truth in where they went from here? What else could she do after all? He was too fast, too strong for her to get away from, that much was clear, so perhaps she should just try to go along with it? Not trust him, god no, but try and accept what he was telling her? For what else could she do? Question after question raced through her brain that only she could answer, and she knew the answer as soon as her own mind asked them.

"Okay" She almost blurted out, her thoughts forcing her to say that one little traitorous word. But as soon as she'd said it she couldn't take it back, and his gaze met hers once more, "I don't trust you, but I'll accept what you're saying … for now at least" She paused then, biting down on her lip again but not flickering her gaze from his. "T…Truce?" Of course, she stuttered, but her gaze was steady.

She saw him laugh for the first time then. She'd seen hints of it earlier and they had angered her, as did this one, though this was a proper laugh, him throwing his head back in mirth. She glared, but that only made him smile more as he held out his hand for her, she wasn’t sure what he found so amusing, but she was sure it was at her expense. A smirk was playing on his lips as he waited for her to take his hand, "You have yourself a truce Lady Stark"

And so she took it, shook it, trying to tell herself this was the best way forward, trying to tell herself she could always try and run if he was deceiving her, and trying not to feel as though she had just signed a truce with the devil.

* * *

They ate their food in silence, evidently the little truce she had suggested did not extend to friendship. God that had made him laugh, her stumbling of the word, trying to look cool and collected when he had seen the fear and confusion in her eyes. He had held out his hand, not expecting her to take it and yet she had. They were at an impasse it seemed, she not trusting him, he not trusting her not to run and yet agreeing to accept one another's positions for the moment.

Honestly, Jaime felt it was the best they could get, he would prove to her over the weeks that he was taking her home, and hopefully she would trust him enough not to run away or make a fuss. It was the best they could hope for and was far better than her screaming and fighting him every step of the way.

And so, they ate, the food divided equally (though slightly in favour of Sansa, for he had given her more, he could be a gentleman on occasion), enough between them to call it a meal. Once it was finished, he grabbed the sleep roll from his bag, it was tattered and awful but offered some protection, and she grabbed the blanket she had taken from Kings Landing. It was pitiful between them, and temperatures were not kind to them, evidently Lady Stark thought the same as she refused to settle and looked over at him with some kind of expectation.

"Yes?" He asked then; for he was getting ready to settle down, but she was still sat bolt upright, clearly not ready for sleep and clearly expecting something of him.

"Aren't you going to make a fire?" She asked in disbelief, and he almost laughed at her naivety again, if it hadn't made her so vulnerable of course. Instead his expression was harder as he sat himself back up and looked across at her with a raised eyebrow.  
"Is that what you've been doing? Making a fire each night?" He asked, trying to keep his tone neutral, though he couldn't help the anger that creeped into it, god was this girl a lackwit? He was no scholar himself, but he couldn’t abide by stupidity.  
"I tried but I could never get one going" She admitted, and though she seemed sad about that, he was thankful, he probably never would have found her alive if she'd succeeded.

"No fire" He said simply, "It attracts attention, and though I am the best swordsman in the kingdoms, I am not at peak strength, I don't fancy any fights yet" He said simply before settling back down onto his sleep roll, his anger all but gone, he was like that, quick to temper but easy to cool, he also could hardly judge her naivety. He could see why she wanted a fire, it was freezing, but it was not a good idea, not unless they wished the smoke to attract all manner of people.

"But it's so cold" She said in disbelief, her tone shocked, and exasperated he sat himself back up, trying not to let his temper get the best of him, though he felt an odd mixture of annoyance and amusement.

"It'll be colder if we're dead" He said with a roll of his green eyes, "I have literally no idea how you've survived on the Kings Road so far without me, do you have any idea how dangerous it is? And you want to start a fire? Amplifying the danger?" He scoffed at her then, rolled his eyes again.

"I managed just fine!" She said, her tone full of indignation, "And we're in the forest, no one will see!"

"Oh really?" He said, sarcasm coming to his tone, though it was better than anger, "I suppose they won't see smoke through the trees? We're safe here, we're deep enough in not to be seen and wildlife doesn’t roam these parts. We won't get found unless we attract attention to ourselves with something like … I don't know, a fire?!" Jaime couldn't help but sound so patronising, with her insistent talk of fire it was reminding him of just how cold it was. Besides, wasn't she northern? Surely, she could handle the cold better than he!

But then he knew that wasn't the case. A grown woman she was but still a thin one, wearing a ragged dress with only a cloak and blanket for protection. Still, it was more than he had!

She didn't respond to his words this time, and instead didn't move, evidently still refusing to settle down out of stubbornness. He was tempted just to go to sleep himself, leave her to cut off her own nose to spite her face, but he knew he couldn't do that. He could hardly blame her for her lack of survival skills either. He'd been in battle when one learned these things, she'd likely never slept outside of a castle until now, a noble Lady through and through, he couldn't be angry at her for things she had never had cause to learn. Sure, it could irritate him, but he shouldn’t be angry at her.

"Look" Jaime spoke again, going for a gentler tone this time, "I know it's cold, but it's better to be cold than to attract attention with a fire okay?" He was pleased when she at least nodded, but he wanted her to settle down, they both needed sleep, "If you want to stay warm, bundle up under your blanket, or better yet, come here, we'll use body heat" Of course the last part was sarcasm, mischief evident in his tone. Still her gasp of disgust followed by her immediately covering herself with her blanket and cloak and lying herself down made him laugh once more, well that was one way to get her to go to sleep.

He waited a few moments to be sure she was sleeping before he moved closer to her; not close enough to cosy up to her but close enough to be sure he'd awake if she encountered trouble. No, they'd be too far apart to touch, but close enough if anything happened. So finally, Jaime settled down himself, the night sky overhead twinkling with stars, the chill soon forgotten as he drifted into slumber.

What a strange day it had been…

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo thoughts? 
> 
> hope you guys enjoyed! pls lemme know if you do, always love feedback!  
> also did you like tyrion's pov? he will mostly be our eyes in KL (for the moment)!
> 
> speak soon


	5. Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the response to this story is awesome! had no idea there were so many jaime/sansa fans out there, lets gooo 
> 
> pls lemme know if you like, this one has a lil scene in that makes me swoon, how did you like it? 
> 
> songrecs: for you - serena ryder

The sun was just peeping out of the clouds, just breaking across the sky and she began to stir. It took a few minutes for her to come to her senses, for her eyes to flutter open and her body to adjust to a hard night on the forest floor. It had been cold, uncomfortable, but she had found it the easiest night out in the wild so far. She wasn’t sure if that was because she’d had a good nights sleep the night before or that she felt safer due to a certain someone’s presence … she refused to acknowledge the latter, even if it were _obvious_ why she felt much safer than she had alone.

As she blinked a few times to adjust to the sunlight that had started to appear she let out a small yawn, sat herself up and rolled her shoulders. The inn had been much more comfortable but she knew it was too risky to stay at every inn on the way, no matter how much she wished for a comfortable feather bed, hot water and good food … that was a sure way to get caught, and she’d rather sleep on a hard forest floor for the rest of her life, than be back in the grasp of the Lannister’s.

Though she supposed, she was already in the claws of one.

Said Lannister was already awake and looked as though he was preparing to go about the day. He hadn’t seemed to notice her as she sat up or he was ignoring her, either or, she preferred it that way. They may have agreed to a truce, and he may seem to be honouring his word to take her home, but she still didn’t trust him.

She had trusted a Lannister once and it had all ended in heartbreak, she wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ make that mistake again.

“Awake at last?” His voice jolted her from her thoughts, clearly, he had been ignoring her rather than unaware. She shot him a timid glare as she stood to her feet, folding her blanket, and scooping it up in her arms. The air was warmer during the day, but the cold hadn’t bothered her too much in the night, she was a northerner after all, she could endure the cold. It was harder to adjust to sleeping like a commoner, even in Kings Landing they had honoured her station as a noble woman.

But it would all be worth it in the end. It didn’t matter how dirty her dress was, how many leaves were tangled in her hair. It didn’t matter that she looked like a peasant or that she was hungry, tired, and sore. It would all be worth it to get back to her brother and mother, to return home, to Winterfell. She had to keep reminding herself of that, then she could and would endure it all.

But then, it wasn’t just that she had to deal with, now there was Jaime Lannister. Sansa hadn’t anticipated a travelling companion and she certainly hadn’t wanted one, but he had ignored what she wanted and decided he would be her companion. Yes, she may feel safer with him by her side, but he was still unwelcome. Sure, there was no denying he was a legendary swordsman with survival skills that far surpassed hers, but it didn’t mean she wanted him with her.

She didn’t trust him, not one bit, and she still felt this was all some elaborate ruse, and soon enough he’d turn them around, back to the Capitol. Part of her wondered if he was going North to then veer West and take her to his home Kingdom of the Westerlands, perhaps to trick her brother. Whatever he was doing she couldn’t believe he was taking her to her brother, it made no sense! She couldn’t figure out why he would do it, no matter how hard she tried.

But they had called a truce, she understood that, and she supposed she just had to go along with it. She knew she couldn't escape him, he was too fast and too strong, so she knew she had to simply stick with him and hope he was true to his word. That and simply stay alert, at the first sign he wasn't doing as he said then she would figure out what to do next. For now, she had little choice but to go along with him, and to hope that perhaps he could be telling the truth, that perhaps for once he would honour a vow.

"Not very talkative? Hungry I imagine" She realised then she'd fallen silent, and not answered his question, not that, that seemed to bother him, "Don't worry, we'll be reaching the border of Hayford soon, should be able to buy some food in one of the markets, perhaps some blankets as well, then we'll continue our journey" He said with a nod as he readied the horse.

"Okay" Was all she could muster as she rubbed her eyes of sleepiness. He too was quiet then and she took a few minutes to pack up her meagre belongings, to take a drink of water, and run her fingers through her hair. She knew she looked far from presentable, but that wasn't what was important right now, right now it was important to carry on, and to be strong, that mattered far more than her appearance right now.

“Ready to go?” He asked then, and he turned to look at her, and she got a good look at him in the morning light. She could see he’d been at his beard, with a dagger most likely, and his face was smooth. He’d hacked at his locks as they were uneven but had grown back out to the blonde mane around his head, almost like a halo. She almost let out a ladylike snort at that, more likely he’d spout devil horns than be an angel, even if he could be mistaken for one. He did look better, handsome, younger even, though she hated herself the second she thought such a thing, beauty didn’t matter, not when such a handsome face hid such an awful person.

She nodded and moved forwards, it was time to go, and thinking about Jaime Lannister’s possibly motives were making her head hurt. She could do nothing at the moment, just remain vigilant, and hope, hope that perhaps he would be true to his word.

Perhaps he would take her home.

* * *

“So, do you have a plan?” Finally, the little Stark seemed to find her voice, as she walked over to their horse. It wasn’t that he cared for empty conversation to fill the time but the silence he’d been met with had concerned him. Who knew what Sansa was thinking? He knew she was doubtful of his motives, of everything about him, and hell he could hardly blame her. Still, he didn’t want her to get any ideas about escaping, and so perhaps it was best to make conversation, keep her distracted from illusions of fleeing from him.

He also felt some conversation might reveal her thoughts, Jaime was usually good at reading people, it was part of the reason he was so good with a sword, he could look into a man’s eyes and know his motives in seconds, but Sansa? She didn’t prove so easy to read, he needed some insight.

“I do” He said, before saddling his bag to the horse. He took hers and tied it the same, before taking her blanket and spreading it over the back of the mare. He had thought in hindsight he should have gotten her, her own horse at the inn, but he felt it was better this way. Much less likely to escape him if she couldn’t ride off. “But first let’s get moving, and then we can talk” He watched her nod at that, concede the point, but distrust was filling her gaze. He rolled his eyes at that, before he took a step towards her and she stepped back in response.

“So skittish” He mocked, but at her glare and the tightening of her firsts he let out a small sigh, “I’m just trying to help” He said, nodding his head to the horse. She seemed to understand him then and nodded back, albeit reluctantly and took a step forward to him. With ease he grabbed her at the waist and hoisted her up onto the horse. Once she settled herself into the saddle, he followed her up, sitting himself behind her, his arms circling her waist to take the reins. It was comfortable, and easier this way, though he knew they’d need to replace the mare soon. Sure, he was a little too slender after his year in the Northman's captivity, and she was a waif of a thing anyway, but two people on one horse would surely mean the horse wouldn't last long. Still, that was another problem for another day.

Today's problem was how much ground they needed to cover. He'd like to be at the border of Hayford by dark, it would mean they could get food, but he knew it would be difficult, likely they'd be looking at another night in the forest with little food before they could buy supplies. It would be a long hard journey up North, that was for sure.

"So, what is our plan?" He heard her ask again. She was a shy little thing it seemed, but not when demanding answers from him. Still he decided to engage her, likely if she knew what was going on, she'd be reassured. He doubted she would ever trust him, but he hoped she would realise he was speaking true and stop glaring at the back of his head when she thought he wasn’t aware of her.

"Well, we're west of Rosby at the moment" He began, for he felt it best to go into full detail of his plans, keep her distracted and hopefully earn a little bit of trust, "Coming up to Hayford. From there we'll pass west of Antlers, and then up on the Kingsroad, we'll pass by Harenhall, at the same time we'll pass by the Trident" He was sticking to known settlements now of major houses, for he was sure Sansa would know those, and it seemed to work as she was nodding her head. "From there we'll follow on through the Riverlands. They've been ravaged, but we should be able to travel undetected. We'll go by Fairmarket, Oldstones, the Red and Blue forks, and then onto Frey Lands" He said with a nod of his head, "I'm hoping we reach your brother before he leaves the Twins, if not we'll continue up North, though let's hope it doesn't come to that" He said with a shake of his head. He had no desire to freeze to death up North, he'd been once and that was plenty enough. Still, if that was what it took, he would do so, he just hoped he didn’t have to.

For a moment, there was silence, and then Sansa spoke again, her voice quiet, but sounding a little confused, "Why is my brother at the Twins?"

Of course, Sansa had hardly been kept apprised of her brother's movements, likely she didn't have much an idea of the goings on of the war bar some court gossip which would likely be exaggerated and not filled with any actual information. Jaime didn't wish to tell her the gruesome tales he had heard, and been a part of, she did seem so fragile no matter how much she glared, but he knew he needed to give her a general idea.

"Your brother by the sounds of it has married Roslin Frey" He said with a nod of his head. For that he did feel some pity for the Young Wolf, sure Jaime had never held any interest in any girl other than Cersei, still he could acknowledge other women were attractive … but a Frey? He could imagine Robb Stark was currently lamenting over his misfortune to be married into that family, and to one of those daughters.

"They married, and your Uncle Edmure is due to wed Bethany Blackwood I believe" He said with a shrug, after all, all his news came from what he'd heard around camp, and what Brienne had deigned to tell him, it wasn't a whole lot but he knew it was more than she was aware of. "I believe your brother is marching North to reclaim Winterfell from the Iron Born, and then he plans to come South again most likely" Jaime said.

"Do you think he'll win?" He heard the little Stark waif say, and then felt her cringe as she realised what had slipped from her mouth. He almost laughed then. Clearly, she had been watching her words in Kings Landing, and was failing to do so now. He didn’t know if that was a sign of trust or just her natural walls falling now, she was out of the lion’s den.

"I don't know" He said honestly as they left the safety of the forest and hit the Kingsroad. Normally, Jaime wouldn't have wanted to travel down such a road alone, but he felt they would meet little danger. He was a fantastic swordsman after all, and though he was thinner he still looked the part of a warrior. He doubted they would face any trouble. Sansa alone, however? He almost shivered. He may have only cared to get the girl home based on a vow, but it did dread him to think what would have happened to her if he hadn't found her and she had tried to ride the Kingsroad alone.

"He's a good tactician, skilled" He admitted with a nod of his head, he may be arrogant, but there was no shame in admitting another man’s skill, "But he's made mistakes. Also, he is facing a very strong force, with the alliance with the Tyrell's… he'll find it hard to beat us"

"Not us" She said quietly then, "Just your family"

"Yes, my family, a family which you would have become a part of it seems" He didn't mean to let the words slip and he winced when he did.

"What do you mean?" He heard the worry in her voice, and she would have no doubt turned to look at him if his arms hadn't trapped her to remain in place as he whipped the reins so the horse would pick up speed.

"Well, I heard rumour in the inn I met you at that my nephew is betrothed to the Tyrell girl now, so you were set aside" He said, trying to word it delicately, "You would have been married off to a Lannister soon enough, perhaps Tyrion or one of my cousins"

"But why?" He heard her say in surprise. Again, he resisted the urge to roll his eyes, was she this naïve or did she just want to hear him explain it?

"Because my father anticipates your brother meeting a swift death soon, you would then be heir to the North, the key to it even, he'd want to keep such key under his control" He said with a shrug. Of course, he knew the real truth, his father had planned for him to marry Sansa, an absurd proposition he never would have accepted, and he didn’t need Sansa to know what had almost come to pass.

Sansa fell silent then, and he pushed on the reins a bit harder. They had a lot of ground to cover, and it seemed both had a lot to think about as well.

* * *

And so, the day passed with little conversation between the two, as they were both deep in thought. They rode hard along the Kingsroad, only stopping twice to let the horse rest and take a drink. They had gone through all their food the night before, and in a show of gallantry Jaime had given her the last apple for breakfast. Once such an action would have made Sansa blush, instead she’d just thanked him in a curt tone and he’d nodded his head, nothing more.

She was hungry and tired now, and the Kingsroad had started to show its true colours. Twice Jaime had forced the horse to ride hard to avoid some of the unsavoury character’s they’d come across and that wasn’t even the worst of it. They had gone past several dead bodies, bloated, and teeming with flies. They had seen a Septa sobbing by the side of the road, having clearly been brutalised. Sansa had wanted to stop and help the woman, had even asked Jaime, but he had only thrown her a patronising look and continued on.

It was scary, and Sansa had come to understand the reality of what she ahd done. She had escaped King’s Landing yes, but she hadn’t even come close to considering the consequences. She had thought she’d ride off on her horse, stay in a few inn’s, sleep in the forest and charge on home. But she hadn’t considered anything beyond that!

First, as Jaime had told her the current state of her family that morning, she had realised she hadn’t even known where her brother and mother resided; she had planned to ride for Riverrun. Second, as they made their way down the Kingsroad she realised how unlikely it would have been that she would even make it to Riverrun. Aside from her lack of survival skills that would have had her relying too much on inn’s and markets to be safe, she would have been completely unsafe alone.

As much as she despised Ser Jaime, didn’t want him travelling with her, and resented him forcing his companionship on her, she had come to acknowledge how much safer she felt with him. She had felt his strong arms circling her on the horse, had seen him draw his heavy sword as though it weighed nothing, and had seen a few lone men and even a group of three scurry away from them as they passed, intimidated by him and the grip he had on that sword.

She may not like travelling with a Lannister, but it made her a lot safer. And, she had to now acknowledge the possibility … Jaime might get her home.

She still couldn’t trust him of course, even as he’d outlined his plan to her. A large part of her still feared he’d turn them around to Kings Landing, or go West to Casterly Rock, or perhaps he’d sent a raven in the night and soon Lannister soldiers would ambush them. It was a feeling that wouldn’t go away, she could not trust him, and so she couldn’t fully believe his plans or his word.

"We're not going to make it to Hayford" Jaime's words broke her train of thought, as they hadn't spoken for over an hour and she had been deep in thought. The Kingsroad was quieter now as night began to fall.

"No?" She asked, for honestly, she wasn't one hundred percent sure where they were. She didn't have a map … another failing on her part to prepare for this journey, it seemed Jaime didn’t need one, he knew the land of Westeros far beyond her grasp of the geography of the country.

"No" He said simply as he began to turn the horse into the nearby forest. The forest wasn't so dense here, and so as they breached the trees, they rode for a good half an hour before they managed to find a good spot. Sansa remained quiet then as she took in everything around her; the small ponds with dragonflies dancing over the tops, the lush trees, the fertile green grounds, it was beautiful, only married by the intrusions of humanity in the area, in the shape of a body or two and at one point someone swinging from a hangman's noose.

It was only when they stopped, far away from the bodies, close to a small pond, and in the middle of a very small clearing, did Sansa speak up.

"So, we're stopping for the night again?" She asked, though it was a stupid question, and she practically felt Jaime roll his eyes at her.

"Yes. One more night in the forest, then we'll go to Hayford, pick up some food and some blankets and continue on" He said as he jumped down from the horse, quickly grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down, before releasing her.

“But… but what about food?” She asked, crossing her arms across her chest. Why he felt the need to yank her down from the horse she didn’t know, sure he was quite gentle, and it showed just how strong he was, but she didn’t appreciate it, she was capable of getting off of a horse!

"I'll catch us something" He said, as though it was the most obvious answer in the world. That was something she noted about him, when he wasn't being sarcastic or teasing, he was completely sure of himself. If anything, he seemed a little insulted she would doubt him. God this man was so arrogant, so conceited! But then he was a Lannister, what else should she expect?

She glared at his back as he tied the horse to a nearby tree and got out the stuff to sleep on. There was no food to get out, but he removed the water skins. It hadn't dawned on Sansa how hard up for food they would be, and her stomach was already rumbling. She didn’t doubt Jaime would catch them something though, as much as his arrogance annoyed her, she knew it came from a place of being sure about himself because he’d done all of this before.

She hated to admit it, but it seemed he was becoming more and more essential to her journey. The hope that had come to her when she had fled Kings Landing was growing stronger, like a flame flickering higher and higher… the idea that she would soon be back with her family, it was what was keeping her going, and as each hour passed she was getting more and more excited that it might actually happen.

"What should I do?" She asked as she grabbed her own stuff, her blanket, and her water skin, before moving to the pond to fill them up. The water was clean here, that at least she could tell.

"Sit pretty" He said simply before disappearing into the woods. Her eyes widened as everything went silent. She felt annoyed at his words, _‘sit pretty’_ , god he was more arrogant than his awful sister! And that was saying something. But worse … that was it?! He was leaving her here, alone?! She shivered then, was that wise? She supposed they were deep enough in the forest they shouldn't be bothered, and she had the horse for company. But still!

With a deep breath she knew she needed to get herself together. She would have been alone anyway, Jaime was simply an addition to the party, this was not the time to get scared! Yes, there would be many dangers on the way to her brothers now, but it was better than being in Kings Landing! Stuck with Cersei and Joffrey and Tywin! It was much better. She had to keep reminding herself of that. She would not let her excitement die.

And so, she busied herself. She filled up her own water skin, gulped down several mouthfuls and then filled it again. She filled Jaime's too … she figured he was getting them food; it was the least she could do. Then she moved to the horse, led it gently over to the pond, where it happily lapped up some water before settling down, content after grazing on some grass.

It was then she sat back down on her blanket, and simply waited … for what else was she supposed to do?

* * *

Jaime had to get away.

He knew it was slightly irresponsible leaving her alone, but he was relying on three facts; he wasn't going far, they were deep in the forest, and he would hear if she ran into any trouble. Plus, they needed to eat, he was starving, no doubt as was she. He had heard her stomach grumble and his own was going to.

But that wasn't his primary reason for marching away from her.

No.

No, he had marched away from her for certain … biological reason, a male reason that was a result of hours sat on a horse with her squirming in front of him, even placing her hands on his thighs when she had been falling asleep. He had never been with anyone but Cersei, never wanted to be before, and he did not want to be with Sansa in that way, but he was still a man! And Sansa Stark happened to be a beautiful woman! It was a biological response … or at least that was what he kept telling himself, to justify getting a raging hard on for a girl half his age who despised him.

And so, he needed some time to cool off. Half hour focusing on hunting had done the job. He'd caught a rabbit for his trouble, it wasn't loads but it was enough. It would mean starting a fire to avoid rabbit fever, but they were deep in the forest, he wasn't concerned here.

And so, he went back the way he had come (thankfully he had an excellent sense of direction), certain problems taken care of (or rather dissipated thanks to his focus on hunting, he certainly wasn't _'taking care of himself'_ in this cold with Sansa around the corner), and he made his way back to their camp, thankful he was calmer now and they could eat dinner in relative peace.

He was jolted from his thoughts then, as he heard a nearby scream.

"Jaime!"

In a second, he was running, running towards the camp, dropping the food as he reached where they had stopped. His eyes were wide as he looked across at the image in front of him; Sansa Stark being grappled by a bandit, likely a raper. He didn't hesitate as he ran forwards, removed his dagger, and grabbed the man around the middle, forcing him off Sansa. It was easy, he was weaker now yes, but this bandit looked half starving, it would be no fight.

And it wasn't as he plunged his dagger in the man's side, twisted it, and then followed it up with two more stabs of the knife. The man slumped over, dead, and yet as Jaime threw him on the floor, he plunged the dagger one more time into the man's neck, just to be sure. He wanted to go to Sansa to see if she was okay, but a glance over at her showed her simply looking at the body. He nodded at her before picking the dead man up. Two minutes later he was back, the body disposed of, away from their camp. And then he approached the Stark girl.

“Sansa? It’s alright, you’re safe now, I promise” He said, fighting to make his voice gentle, as his blood was up after a kill. It had been no challenge, but any kill always gave a rush of adrenaline. He tried to be gentle as he spoke and held a handout for her to take. “It’s alright”

It was alright, she looked okay, unharmed, the raper hadn’t even got to her clothes. Still she looked shaken up, and so he tried to be gentle, to reassure her. “You’re safe” And she was, she would be safe from here out with him, he would make sure of it.

He held his hand out to her, and to his surprise she took it. Though what was even more surprising was her next move. She stood to her feet, and released his hand, and just as he was about to turn away, to retrieve their food, she took a step forward, and then without warning flung herself into his arms.

She let out a sob as she grabbed onto him, and he could feel her shaking. He didn’t try to pull her off or step back, instead he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, as she sobbed against his chest. He held her closer than he had his own family members, and she seemed to find comfort as he held onto her, her sobs calming some, even though the tears continued. Almost on instinct he began to stroke down her copper coloured hair, rubbed her back, and held onto her tightly as she cried.

He would not be the first to break the embrace, not as Sansa Stark sought comfort for him, a comfort he could give.

* * *

As she sat alone, waiting for Jaime to return, hopefully with food, she thought of them. Of Robb, mother, Bran, Rickon, Arya, Jon, father, Lady. Gods how she missed them. She’d give anything to go back, rewind time, never leave Winterfell and remain together as a family, as a pack.

She’d been so stupid to want to leave, to chase the songs and tales of the South, songs, and stories she now knew were all lies. She would have given anything to go back home, to have them all together again. Perhaps if that happened, she’d appreciate it this time.

Minutes ticked by, and she continued to think of her family, thought of the better days at Winterfell. A giant snowball fight that even father and mother had joined in. Dinners in the great hall that would always result in much laughter. Arya throwing herself from the first-floor window to be caught by Robb and Jon, Bran following her, Sansa scoffing when they teased her that she was too scared to do it, which she had, in a rare wild moment, just to prove she could (and they had all received a firm scolding from father). Giving Rickon his first lemon cake, braiding Jon’s hair as he was the only one who kept it long and Arya refused to let her near hers. Those had been good times, and a slightly starry, tear gazed look had overcome her gaze as she thought of home, of Winterfell.

And that was how she missed the sound of a branch breaking behind her, and by the time she heard it, it was too late.

It was a bandit who grabbed a hold of her and threw her to the floor in such a swift motion she couldn't even try to run. A bandit who placed a dirty hand over her mouth to stop her from screaming, even when she bit him he didn't relent, just gave her a crazed look as he tried to stop her from struggling, as he held her down with ease.

"Stop it girl" He growled, and she continued to try and shake him loose, "Just accept it"

Then he began to grab at her clothes. He was weak it seemed from hunger, but still stronger than her, much stronger. And as he let out a frustrated noise as he grappled with her clothes, in blind panic she saw her chance.

Again, she bit him, but this time on his little finger and harder, much harder, she didn't taste blood, but she knew she'd hit her mark, as he wrenched his hand loose with a furious cry.

That allowed her to snatch a breath of air and scream out, "Jaime!" at the top of her lungs, for who else could she call? And in that moment, of pure fear, of horror, she trusted Jaime to come to her, to protect her.

She was only then fighting the man for a minute more, but that minute allowed plenty of thoughts to run through her head, and it felt like over an hour as she kicked and struggled against his hold. She refused to give up, refused to give in as he pressed his hand to her mouth again and kept her pinned to the floor. She continued to struggle, continued to fight, and then all of a sudden, he was off her, and thankfully her clothes remained intact.

She allowed herself a gasp of air, so loud she was afraid peasants on the Kingsroad would hear it. Tears immediately came to her eyes, but she blinked them away furiously as she looked up to find who had grabbed her attacker.

It was Jaime. He had come for her, … like a Knight in shining armour, and he certainly looked the part, killing the man with ease, dragging him into the woods and then returning to her, not a spot of blood on him, not even out of breath … having just saved her life. He had been so gallant, rushing forward to save her without a second's hesitation (sure she knew this man had stood no chance against Ser Jaime Lannister but still). He had saved her.

She knew it was wrong to see him as some gallant Knight, but he had saved her. If she had been alone no doubt, she would have ended up raped, robbed, and murdered, left in the woods to rot like the bodies they had hurried past on their way to this spot. He had saved her life, and for once Sansa felt her heart warm at the actions of a Lannister.

He had saved her, and so when he gave her a hand to help her up, she could not stop herself, didn’t want to. Part of her mind was telling her to simply thank him and walk away, and yet that little voice was smothered by the louder voice screaming, telling her to do the opposite.

It wasn’t something she even wanted to do, it was something she needed to do, and the voice in her head screamed at her to give in to what she needed.

And so she flung herself at him, arms round his neck, face pressed into his chest, and then the tears came, fast and thick down her cheeks as the adrenaline left her body and she was simply left with the trauma of what had happened, or worse, what had almost happened if Jaime hadn’t stepped in, if he hadn’t saved her.

Thankfully, Jaime didn't let go of her, no he wrapped his arms around her back, held her close, and didn't let go. He stroked her hair, rubbed her back and held her close, and not once did he make to move away or let her go, he held her firm and strong, and in his embrace she felt safe, safer than she had in a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo thoughts? 
> 
> jaime is the knight in shining armour! for now... this story is mainly fluff but there will be some angst, I can't resist it.   
> what d'you guys prefer fluff or angst or a mixture of both? lemme know!
> 
> hope you enjoyed!
> 
> speak soon


	6. Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> helo, damn this chapter gives me the feels. 
> 
> pls lemme know what you think, and more importantly enjoy!
> 
> songrecs: only love can hurt like this - paloma faith (spotify lounge sessions are best, damn that woman can sing)

He wasn’t sure if minutes passed or hours, but Sansa continued to clutch him, refusing to let go, sobbing into his chest, holding onto him, as though afraid to release him. He would not be the first to break the embrace, not when he knew she needed this comfort, needed him, he would be there as she needed him.

And need him she did, and that made him feel a little warm, he couldn’t remember the last time someone had needed him. Tyrion perhaps? To defend him? But no, Tyrion’s wit and words were his defence, and often more effective than his brother charging in with a sword. Cersei? She had never needed him, not really, and he had always wanted to be needed by her, and she never had. His father? No, his father saw his children as useful tools in furthering his dynasty but little more. It had been a while since someone had needed him, and now someone did, and he wouldn’t let them down.

Still, he knew once she stopped crying and regained her composure, she’d pull away from him, embarrassed at her actions and annoyed at herself for falling into his arms. Jaime prided himself on his ability to read people, to understand their motivations, their plans, and desires. He need only look into someone’s eyes or spend a few seconds analysing their body language before he knew the make of them. He and Sansa Stark may be strangers, but he knew enough about her by reading her, and he knew she still mistrusted him, hated him even, and only clung to him out of a need for safety and comfort.

And he was right. A few more minutes passed, and her sobs began to subside, turning first to something akin to hiccups and then little sniffles before she pulled herself away from his chest. She glanced at him once, those deep blue eyes still shining with tears, as they met his green gaze. He felt she was looking into him for a minute, felt as though that gaze could pierce his soul … it was an odd feeling, and not an entirely welcome one before she dropped her gaze and turned away, pulling away as he had guessed.

He didn’t push her though, and he knew he’d be a cruel man if he mocked her now. Instead he nodded to himself before turning back into the forest, he needed to get their supper.

He wasn’t too worried about leaving her again, he wouldn't be going as far, and the man had been a lone bandit by the looks of it. Still he hurried, fast on his feet and was back in under a minute, dinner in hand. She had her back to him as he returned but he could see she was filing up their water skins, a kindness he hadn’t expected.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice was gentle, as kind as it could be, but he knew it didn't offer the comfort she likely craved.

"Yes, I'm fine" She said, her voice controlled, and yet he could hear the thickness of her unshed tears, the fear that still lingered in her voice was evident.

He found himself rolling his eyes then, he hated courtesies and formalities, had since a young child, they made him want to rip his golden locks out, and so he couldn’t stop what he said next.

“You don't have to chirp empty platitudes anymore Sansa" He said with a roll of his eyes, annoyance spiking him that even though he knew she had no reason to trust him he had hoped she was becoming more comfortable, and again he hated courtesies. "Say what you mean or don't say anything" He knew it was harsh to say, but what else could he say at this point? He couldn't stand the court civilities, the lies, and the deception. Jaime had never wanted to be involved in any of that, had refused to be and though he could hardly blame Sansa for having walls of ice around her, it didn't annoy him any less.

"Then I shall stay quiet" She spoke, her voice hard now, the sound of tears gone.

"Better than what I'm hearing now" He said, his tone hard too, unable to stop the words leaving his lips, his annoyance clear.

Silence fell then, but just for a moment, a mere moment of quiet, which he expected to stretch for longer. He did not expect what came next, even after years of being in tense situations, of reading people and understanding them, he did not expect what came next.

What came next was Sansa Stark _finally_ breaking.

"What would you like me to say then Ser?!" She said, her tone growing harsh, emotion now roaring behind her words. Part of him wanted to snap back at her, but the other part was relieved she seemed to be showing some level of emotion, even if such emotion was anger. Anger was better than nothing, and though he didn't wish to fight, knowing his temper was a lot worse than hers when kindled, it was better than the emptiness of before.

"I don't know my Lady" He shot back the formal title with a glare, as he looked across at her, and he took in her posture. She'd stood to her feet, her hands screwed into fists by her sides, her eyes cold, her entire body singing with the fury she had clearly been holding in. He knew he should back down, but he didn't want to, this anger, this fighting was better than the coldness and tension of before, he’d take fire over ice any day, "But anything better than you chirping your courtesies at me is an improvement in my eyes"

He knew it was cruel, stoking a fight like this, but it was better than the silence.

"So, you want me to yell?" She said, her voice rising a little, both in volume and pitch, he could tell ... she was oddly liking this too, a chance to get her anger out, to voice her annoyance and finally speak her mind. "Want me to scream at you? To say all of the things I think of you no matter how awful?" She said, taking a step toward him, all fear towards him gone it seemed as she spoke, "Is that you want me from me Ser?!"

He found his own temper rearing, and soon he was striding toward her too, his own temper an ugly, uncaged demon that came and went in a flash of red that was all he could see, as he walked towards a now trembling Sansa Stark, stopping barely short of colliding with her, towering over her as he spoke. "I want anything other than your emptiness! Acting like a voiceless dove!" He said, and then as his temper began to calm, as it often did with his hot flashes of anger, he turned unkind, not even meaning too, the words leaving him without thought, mocking and sarcastic and cruel, "It is dreadfully boring to hear you chirp little bird”

He'd thought the unexpected was her exploding at him, but that was nothing compared to what came next.

Perhaps it was because of his rage, or the fact he never expected Sansa Stark to get violent with him, but that was how he missed her hand rising, and he first felt the sharp sting of a slap across his cheek before he saw it. He didn't stumble back, or curse, he'd taken far worse blows than the fragile hand of the Stark girl. But it left a red stain, like red wine spilled on snow, and he only managed to take a breath before he turned back to her, as she rose her hand again, clearly intent on hurting him as much as possible.

This time he caught her hand, and then the other in the firm grasp of his hands circling her wrists. All anger seemed to drain from her, as he effectively trapped her, his hands biting into her wrists, his own anger rearing up again. He glared down at her and had to force himself to take several deep breaths. She may have pissed him off, she may have forced his temper to the surface, but he didn't want to hurt her.

No, he didn't want to hurt her, and he knew if he took another move, he would, and so he forced himself to calm down. But clearly the anger draining from his face as he calmed down, was the opportunity Lady Stark had been hoping for. She pulled back, her hands struggling against his, but his grip did not relent, in fact, a cold laugh left his lips as she attempted to struggle away from him, and he found himself quirking his eyebrow in response to her, mocking again. "My Lady, you'll never get away from me if I don't want you too" He said unapologetically, and he watched the anger in her face return ten-fold, evidently that had been the wrong thing to say.

She couldn't shake him off, and so she began to use her hands, pummelling them into his chest, small fists smacking into him that caused him no pain, no it was her words that followed that hurt more. "That's it with you Lannister's isn't it!" She shrieked at him, all walls and emotionless disposition gone as she fought against him. "I have been trapped for months! And you wonder why I chirp like a voiceless bird?!" She squealed out, her anger causing her voice to hitch, "It was to protect myself, from your vicious nephew, your pernicious sister, and your evil father!" She screamed at him, "All intent on making my life hell if I slipped up!" She said, still smacking into him, but he didn't stop her, no.

All anger was gone from him now, his temper rising and calming like the wash of a tide, but he knew she needed this, she needed to let out the harsh words and the pathetic blows. She needed this eruption now she was free from his family … and besides as much as her words stung, they weren't entirely wrong. He’d had his flash of temper; she was entitled to hers.

"My life has been hell! I ran, knowing the risks, knowing how dangerous it would be!" She screamed at him, her eyes finally meeting his gaze, tears now streaming down her cheeks again as she continued to push against him, her fists smacking into him, and yet he only held onto her wrists, mitigating the damage, but letting her continue. They both knew if he had wanted to stop her, he could have, but he let her continue, which seemed to be the right thing as she was finally able to use her voice for something other than her courtesies and her formalities.

"I knew how dangerous it would be! And yet it was better than being stuck in King's Landing!' She screamed, her entire face red now, "With your horrible family!" She said, shaking her head, "Your father, so cold and terrible, your sister, so cruel and hurtful! And your … your… bastard spawn!" She screamed at him.

It was clear she had hesitated on those words for a reason, and Jaime had to say he was shocked that she had said them at all. Those were dangerous words, extremely dangerous, and evidently, she knew it as she stopped fighting, the colour draining from her face in an instant, her eyes growing wide with fear rather than anger. He even released her wrists, and she quickly took a step back, her hands now shaking, it was clear she knew; she had crossed a line.

"I… I... Ser Jaime, I'm…I'm so sorry" She stumbled out, clearly worried now, as she should be.

He shook his head in response, however. Why should she be sorry? She was right after all … and she was right. Still it was a shock to hear. "You're not wrong" Was all he said, looking down at her, his emerald Lannister green, meeting her sapphire Tully blue. "But I wouldn't say that in front of anyone else" The warning was clear in his tone and she nodded her head immediately in response. He nodded his head too … there was clearly nothing left to be said, except she found one more thing to say, that made him smile, just a little.

"I do exclude your brother from that" She said, her voice gentle now, but her gaze no longer meeting his, her eyes dutifully trained on the floor. "Tyrion was always kind to me" She said, "And Tommen of course is just a boy" She said, and he nodded back, and the matter was dropped.

"I’ll... cook the rabbit" Was all that followed as he turned away to pick it up for the third time, and then began to gather wood for the fire. The silence now was as tense as before, but for a different reason, and neither spoke for hours as they ate, drank their water, and soon fell asleep, closer than the night before yes, but he knew she barely slept, and neither did he.

* * *

"Any news?"

The view from the window was beautiful, it looked over miles and miles of luscious land, rolling hills, farms, lakes, and rivers, and yet they were turning away from it, leaving it all behind, leaving the South behind.

Their eyes were trained North now, their time in the South over … for now. They were heading home, where they belonged, and yet they were leaving so much behind, it didn’t feel right to leave, no matter how important it was.

“No, your Grace” The messenger said, voice quiet, clearly worried about bringing such disappointing words. “Our spies that got into Kings Landing learned two things, the first, Lady Arya went missing months ago, and more recently so has Lady Sansa” He said, and then turned on his heel and left, no more news to bring, leaving the men in charge to their strategies and war talk.

“I don’t know which is worse” Robb said, pulling his graze from the window. He stood in a makeshift war room, at the highest tower of the Twin’s, courtesy of his new father-in-law. Walder Frey had handed over the room with a smile, much more amenable now a Frey was the Queen in the North. “My sisters stuck in the lion’s den, or now roaming the countryside alone” He said, his voice was hard.

Only family were at this meeting, rather than his usual war council. Only his mother, grand uncle, uncle stood in this meeting, this was a matter for family, a private matter, especially as his mother wept into his Uncle Bryden’s shoulder, at the news of her daughters, for it was not good news.

“Well it does strengthen our position” His Uncle Edmure said awkwardly but Robb nodded he was right, as was his next statement, “But it’s worse for them I believe, to be alone in the country, I’m not sure how they could survive alone”

“I know” Was all Robb said back, turning away from them all, back to the window, the pretty view of the South, where his sisters were … somewhere, he hoped. His thoughts were racing, regret and guilt bubbled in his stomach, why hadn’t they aided Stannis? Taken Kings Landing and rescued his family? Why had he been so stubborn? So sure, they didn’t need help and had agreed that they should not be subjugated to southern rule. He still agreed with that, but he’d give up his crown in an instant if it gave him his sisters back. But it was too late for that now.

Why hadn’t he tried to negotiate? To trade Ser Jaime for his sisters, instead of stalling, allowing the Kingslayer to escape thanks to his mother’s foolish plan. He had made so many wrong moves, so many errors. They may have won every battle, but they were losing the war.

He hoped his sisters were alright, but he knew they were in grave danger, alone and unaided, away from home. He just hoped they were okay and hadn’t joined father in death. Tears pooled in his eyes and he took a deep breath and gritted his teeth, it would not do for a King to cry.

one of his daughters was Queen in the North. "My sisters stuck with the Lannister's, or now roaming the countryside alone" He said, his voice hard. Only he, his Mother, Grand Uncle and Uncle stood in this meeting. This was a matter of family, a matter of privacy, especially as his Mother wept into his Uncle Bryden's shoulder - this news was not good news.

“All we can hope is that...” He began but then the door swung open, shoved, and he turned, ready to take out his anger, his guilt, his shame on anyone! He knew that wasn’t the way a King acted, but he felt so angry, and he had told servants to let no one cross the doorway!

Still, he forced himself to remain calm if they were interrupting it must be important.

And important it was.

The messenger hurried inside but was shoved aside by a big hulking man behind him, with a scarred face and a nasty expression. Robb immediately recognised him, and he went to grab a dagger from his desk before he saw who stood behind him, peeking out, and he gasped.

“Arya!” His mother cried out, shoving her way forward to her youngest daughter. A choked sound left Robb’s lips and he too ran forward. How was this possible? How had she survived?! How was she here?!

“Mother! Robb!” She cried out, clutching them as soon as they reached her. Her hair was hacked off, her clothes dirty and boyish and she hadn’t bathed in weeks, but who cared? She was safe, alive, and Robb had to force himself to hold back tears, as his mother sobbed and eventually Arya did too. Instead he forced himself to stand, pull himself away from his sister for just a moment, he had a duty to do.

“Ser, I owe you a great debt for bringing my sister back alive and well, anything you ask of me is yours” He said, standing straight, he was much shorter than this man but he stood firm, thankfully he had managed to hold back his tears.

"I want Tywin fucking Lannister's head on a spike" He spat out, "And I'm no Ser, I'm Sandor Clegane, and you can pay me back for finding your sister by helping me kill my cunt of a brother" He said, and Robb could only nod his head and hold out his arm.

"You have my word" He said simply, and Sandor nodded, grabbing the King's arm with a nod too. His grip was firm but Robb did not flinch.

Well now they had one sister back ... but now they had to go North, liberate Winterfell, prepare their armies, and then ... then they would find Sansa. Robb hated leaving her behind, and yet he had thought Arya dead when he had heard the news not ten minutes earlier, perhaps that meant hope for Sansa too.

Perhaps she was okay, he hoped she was, and he vowed to find her as soon as he could.

* * *

The next morning continued on as the night before had, in _complete_ silence.

Sansa honestly couldn't find it in herself to even say good morning, and Jaime was evidently happy to continue on in silence. All Sansa could think of was the argument the night before, the last parts running over in her mind time and time again. She couldn't believe she'd said such a thing! Admitting to knowing such sensitive information! She cringed at herself every time she replayed that part in her mind! How could she have been so stupid? She had put herself in a horrendous position! Never mind the horrible words she had spat at him, but revealing something so sensitive? She was either idiotic or too brave for her own good, and she knew she wasn't the latter.

She had never been truly brave, not the way her siblings had, Robb, Jon, Arya, Bran, even Rickon had been braver than her.

Now all she could feel was fear, that Ser Jaime would have no choice but to kill her, to keep her quiet. She knew that is what Tywin would have done, or Cersei, and though she knew Ser Jaime didn't have the ambition of the other Lannister's, and could admit to herself that he wasn’t quite as awful as his sister and father, she knew he would protect them, and knowing what she knew ... another shiver left her as she drank some water, and adjusted her cloak.

Fear was running through her veins thicker than her blood, she felt sick with worry, and her hands were shaking as she made her way to the horse. They had eaten the rest of the rabbit this morning, and now were ready to make a move. Though Sansa doubted she'd live until the next morning. A little squeak left her lips at such a thought and Ser Jaime shot her an odd look, but she averted her gaze, and instead allowed him to help her onto the horse without protest, her eyes trained down, she had plans to make.

She would have to escape again clearly that was what she’d need to do if she wished to live! And wish she did. She’d need to flee as soon as possible, for who knew when he'd do it?! She would need to run when the first opportunity came, she had no choice now. She nodded her head to herself then, that was the only way forward.

Oddly, she had become used to Ser Jaime, had felt safer around him, and knew the rest of her journey would be more frightening than before, and yet ... yet if this was the only way, then so be it. She felt an odd twinge at being without him, he had kept her safe, and now she would be alone again, but what choice did she have?

"Sansa, stop" His voice made her jump, and she jerked in the seat, almost falling off the horse, until he grabbed her by the waist to steady her, and then vaulted himself up to sit behind her, those strong arms circling her once more ... trapping her.

"Stop what Ser?" She said, her voice barely a whisper, it felt as though she was continually having an internal panic attack since revealing what she knew to him, and she couldn't stop it. Her heart was pounding, eyes on the floor, hands shaking.

"Stop worrying about whatever it is you're worrying about" He said, and she almost felt him roll his eyes, "There is no need"

No need? What could he mean?! No need? She had revealed damning information to him! Of course, she was worried, any sane person would be! She knew Ser Jaime worried about little, but sometimes worry was important. "I ... I can't help it"

"Okay" He said simply, "Then let me guess, you're worrying about what you revealed to me yesterday" He said simply, and she cringed at his very correct guess, "Exactly, so, you don't need to worry" He said, flicking the reins, bringing the horse forward, "It's hardly a locked down secret nowadays, and besides, I made a vow, I promise I will not hurt you" He said, and she simply nodded her head, not truly believing him.

But evidently that wasn't good enough for him.

His hands moved up, and she squealed, thinking this was it, this was the moment. This was it! And so her mind clouded with worry, unable to think properly, she did the only thing she could, she threw herself off the horse, breaking through his grasp, and falling to the floor with a gasp, and a strangled cry as the wind was knocked out of her leaving her lips, her entire body curling into itself.

God it hurt, she knew she hadn’t injured anything, but she could feel the wind knocked out of her, and her back and side had been jolted with pain. A small moan left her lips, though her breath still failed her.

"Sansa!" She heard him shout, and then she heard him land down beside her, and then crouch down, putting a hand under her chin, pulling her gaze to his. "Are you alright?" He asked, his wide alight with worry. Why was he worried?! He was going to kill her, why would he worry?! And yet she took in his expression, his genuine look of concern ... why would he be concerned if he were going to hurt her? His green eyes were filled with worry, and as she struggled to regain her breath, she realised ... in her anxiety ridden state, she'd gotten it all _wrong_.

"You're not going to kill me?" She gasped out, her eyes wide, and filling with tears once more. She hadn't meant to be so blunt, and yet it was a struggle to speak as she caught her breath, now was not the time for empty words or courtesies. Now was the time for understanding his motives, as currently her mind was so scrambled with anxiety, she had no idea what they could be.

"No!" He said in disgust, shocked at her words, and Sansa found for the first time in hours the puncturing sense of relief, and she almost laughed, as the tension left her shoulders, and she curled further in on herself, a sob of relief leaving her lips, the reality that he wouldn't hurt her crashing over her in utter, bone numbing relief, in an utter sense of a wave crashing over her, making her able to truly breathe again.

"That was what you thought?" He asked, as he moved forward, grabbing her shoulders, and forcing her to sit up, which she found did help as she took deep breathes to get over the feeling of being winded. She could only nod her head, and he shook his, his eyes rolling once more, a look of exasperation on his features, a flickering of hurt that only lasted a second, followed by more exasperation. The tension continued to drain from her, and honestly she felt a little faint with how relieved she felt, so much so she found herself involuntarily leaning forward, moving to rest her head on his chest, not in a comforting manner, but simply leaning on him, though she supposed there was some comfort in that.

There was silence for a moment before he spoke again, "I know you don't trust me, and I don't blame you for that, but I intend to get you home, no matter what, and I am never going to hurt you Sansa, never, that I can promise" He said, his voice surprisingly gentle now, and she found herself leaning back to look at him again, her eyes widening and meeting his, the look of genuine concern in his eyes so compelling, so ... trustworthy, did she dare to hope?

"You promise?" She asked gently, the first sign of any level of trust between them, it was a first step, a tentative one, but one all the same.

"I promise" He said simply and nodded, as put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her forward once more so she could rest on him again. But he too leaned on her, his head resting atop hers. She found it ...oddly comforting, and then the tears began, streaming down her cheeks, as she allowed herself to relax, truly relax, for the first time since she'd left King's Landing.

"I'm going home" She choked out, the relief mixed with other emotions now, joy, disbelief, and gratitude, gratitude for Jaime, as she moved her hands to clutch at him as she had the night before, but this time without holding anything back, this time she gave herself to his embrace completely, as his other arm wrapped around her back, steadying her, holding her close.

"Yes Sansa, you're going home" Was all he could say, and then they held onto one another for what felt like an eternity, the two of them clutching each other, barely trusting, and yet both comforted and relieved, both for different reasons, and yet ... yet, it was right, it was enough.

And even as the sky began to pour down upon them, they didn't move. The Northern girl in the arms of the Southern night, didn't move, not for a while, a long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soo thoughts? 
> 
> ahhhh that reunion made me squeal! warning tho, one reunion makes does not mean all is well for the starks ... stay tuned. 
> 
> lemme know what you thought, loved, hated, liked, apathy? lemme know!
> 
> speak soon


	7. Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> authorsnotes: this chapter made me squeal, hopefully you do too!
> 
> also, I'm working on a new jaime/sansa oneshot and wip, keep an eye out!
> 
> songrecs: no one - alicia keys

Something had shifted between them, that much was clear. To a man who had always prided himself on his ability to read people, on his ability to understand their body language and their state of mind, he knew … something had changed. It wasn't necessarily a drastic change, but it was a distinct change, a _very_ distinct change.

It had been a week since the … _misunderstanding_ in the forest, which had left them clutching at one another for hours on end, as the rain poured down around them (and yet neither had moved or cared too). A week since things had shifted between them, a week since things had become different. Since the shift, the change.

It seemed she trusted him more, she didn't flinch away from him when he tried to help her, she slept a little closer to him each night, she spoke more than empty platitudes and courtesies. With each and every day passing, as they rode on the backs of their horse, as they passed the Stokeworth border, and rode through Brindlewood … things seemed to become _easier_. He'd even caught her smiling once or twice, and when a drunken fool had tried it with her at a tavern, they'd stopped in she'd instinctively called out his name.

It was clear she had come to trust him, and it made things a hell of a lot easier.

And so, as the sun rose on another morning, after another night slumbering in the forest, Jaime prepared to face the day with a smile. They had been surprisingly lucky on their journey so far. Sure, they'd had a few nights of hungry stomachs, but all in all their journey had been smooth, they were making good time, and were evidently staying ahead of any search parties at their backs, it seemed luck was on their side for the time being, and yet he knew he needed to remain vigilant, he would remain vigilant, no matter if luck had sided with them or not.

Either way, Jaime would feel better once they reached the Riverland's, it was safer territory for them, at least … it was for her, and he hoped it would be for him.

"Jaime, do we have any apples left?" Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he found himself smiling; another bonus, she'd started calling him by his actual name, not just _'Ser'_ or _'My Lord'_ , it really seemed Sansa was starting to trust him, and he was thankful for that, it had been a while since anyone outside of his family had trusted him to do right by them, and in truth that was all he was trying to do; right by Sansa Stark, and right by Lady Catelyn who he'd made his vow too. It felt good to be achieving it, though he'd be throwing no victory parties yet, they still had a long, _long_ way to go.

"Two" He said as he turned back to her, reached for one of the saddle bags and picked out two apples. He handed one to her with a smile and took the other for himself. As far as breakfast went it wasn't too bad, though that was the last of the food, they'd need to stop and find more before nightfall now.

Still, they were making very good time, surging forwards, and soon they would be in the Riverland's, from there they would find out where Robb was and make their way to him, whether it be at the Twins or in the North. Sure, Jaime didn't relish the idea of going up to the barren, cold wasteland of the North, but he'd do it. He'd do it for Sansa.

He had gotten to the point now where he felt like he'd do anything to get Sansa home.

It wasn't just that part of him wanted to help her it was something more than that now. He had realised it as the days ticked by, he had realised it in that prison cell, when Catelyn Stark had released him based on a promise. He had known it for a while, but now as they made progress away from King's Landing, now he realised it all the more.

Sansa Stark was his _salvation_.

She was his chance, his chance to redeem his ruined honour, his chance to finally make something of himself. She was his chance, his salvation … with Sansa maybe he could actually do something with himself, maybe he could be admired, he could show he was more than just a fuck up, more than a glorified bodyguard. He could redeem himself. Knowing that, knowing what she was to him, his behaviour had changed towards her … not distinctly, but a little. He was a little kinder, not so arrogant nor dismissive of how she seemed. He was a little more attentive in some ways. Sure, he wasn't about to have a personality transplant, he was still Jaime Lannister and he'd die before he took life too seriously, but knowing what a chance she was giving him, knowing how much she was doing for him (and she didn't' even know it), he couldn't help but treat her a little differently, and hopefully it was for the better.

"Jaime?" Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he turned to see Sansa by the horse. Time was ticking on in the day now, and they had hoped to make good ground today, and so with a nod he tried to focus, and made his way over to her, his finished apple core thrown into the woods.

"Right, ready?" He asked, his voice a little gruff before he cleared his throat. At her nod he hoisted her onto the horse, and then pulled himself up behind. He had gotten used to that position now, to wrapping his arms around her. Often, she slept against him, and that in truth made him feel warm, that she trusted him enough to sleep in the circle of his arms.

She trusted him. She trusted him to keep her safe.

It was then he decided, with an absolute resolution; Sansa could always trust him to keep her safe, because he would. And as he urged the horse forward through the forest and then onto the barren road, he nodded to himself. He would keep her safe, he would.

* * *

Something had shifted between them; she could see that clear as day. Many in Kings Landing had called her unobservant, foolish, and yet she knew she was neither of those things. Quiet and beaten down? Yes. Unobservant? Never. In Kings Landing she had always observed the goings on in court, and had seen everything with a sharp gaze, a shield of courtesies and a well-trained eye. She had hidden behind the walls of courtesy she had needed to survive, fool she was not.

She observed something different now in her … companionship with Jaime. Just using his name remarked a notable shift, that she felt comfortable enough to do so. If someone had told her weeks ago, she would soon feel comfortable and trusting around a Lannister she would have thought them mad, lame or addled … but no, they would have been right. She did trust Jaime, and she felt secure in that trust, sure, part of her was still reserved, hesitant but she did trust him, she trusted him to keep her safe, to protect her, it was something she wouldn't have expected.

He had proved himself thus far, he had kept her safe from bandits and awful arrogant men, he had ensured she was well fed and as comfortable as one could be on the run, and more importantly he was taking her home! Home!

As hours went by on the road, she could almost feel the air changing, feel the wind pushing her in the direction of home. They were close to the Riverland's now, her mother's territory, Tully territory. She was so close to being safer, and he was taking her there, he was staying true to his word and his vow.

How could she not trust him, when he had saved her so?

Because now she acknowledged that he had saved her. He was taking her home, ensuring she never fell into his families grasp again. She knew once they reached Robb, she would never return South, not ever again. She belonged in the North, and she'd be happy to never see the South again. She would be truly safe! And it was mostly thanks to Jaime. Yes, she had been the one to climb out of her window and get a day's ride away from King's Landing, but now? When they were creeping further and further away? That was due to Jaime, she knew that.

He had saved her … he had. He had kept her safe, and as she found herself unconsciously leaning back against him after several hours of riding, he was comfortable and warm, and she felt trusting enough to do so. She let out a small sigh of contentment as she rested back, it felt good, and it felt good to trust him, to be safe with him.

She had been lonely for _so_ long.

 _So, so_ long. In King's Landing she'd had no-one, no-one at all, and even though she wasn't foolish to think Jaime held any regard for her, at least he was here, treating her almost like a friend … no, not friend, but more like a companion he had sworn to protect.

He was company, sure they didn't talk much, but there was a comfortable atmosphere around them since the morning in the rain, that hadn't been there before. Sansa hadn't had such a feeling in a long, long while; the feeling of being comfortable and at ease around someone, not questioning their motives, actions, or words. She felt at ease, for the first time in over a year.

She leaned back against Jaime, but it wasn't to sleep, it was just to ease her back, and she trusted him enough to do so. At the start of their journey she wouldn't have dared do so, but now? She felt at ease, and comfortable enough to do so.

How strange it was – feeling so comfortable with a Lannister. And yet, Sansa couldn't help but feel that maybe Jaime was more like his little brother than his sister; kinder, gentler, and with a smile she nodded to herself. Ser Jaime was certainly full of surprises.

* * *

An hour or so ticked by as Sansa leaned back against Jaime. She didn't shut her eyes, but happily rested back. She kept her gaze on the road ahead, as the horse cantered forward, as Jaime controlled it with ease and a flick of his wrists, and they made good time over the road.

"Sansa? Are you asleep?" She heard him speak, and in response she shook her head, but she stiffened a little and felt her cheeks warm, what must he think? She resting back against his unintentional embrace? She edged forward a little, and bit down on her lip, what to say?

It wasn't proper, not in the slightest, and yet none of this were proper, an unmarried woman travelling with a Knight was the height of scandal, but these weren't normal circumstances, she was no longer a little lady obsessed with things such as that, there were more important things now.

"No, just resting, sorry" She mumbled hastily, and she heard him laugh, to which she couldn't help but roll her eyes. She swore he took very little that went on day-to-day seriously. Take the other day in the tavern, when a drunken Knight had tried to grope her, she'd called for him, and he'd been at her side in a second yes, but had laughed as the Knight had challenged him _'for his Lady's hand'_ before cutting the brute in half with one swing of his sword. He was so carefree in regard to many things, so arrogant and sure of himself. Sure, in some ways it was comforting, it made her feel safer, but sometimes it grinded on her nerves.

"It's fine" He replied, as he pushed the horse forward, "Feel free to sit back, we'll be riding for a few more hours yet" He said with a nod of his head, "Then there is an inn a few hours away, we'll stay there tonight and get some food, okay?" To which she could only nod, evidently, he was trying to ease her embarrassment, though his laughter hadn't help.

She couldn't help but feel embarrassed. In normal circumstances the way they were acting with one another would be deemed completely inappropriate. She had her hands on his thighs for balance, his chest was pressed to her back, and he had his arms wound tightly around her to reach the reigns. The fact they also slept by one another (though admittedly a fair distance away) with no one else around at night was another strike. She almost laughed at the thought of just how unladylike her behaviour was, but what other choice did she have? She could hardly demand a chaperone! Still, she imagined what her younger self would have thought; well her younger self would have likely been part horrified and thrilled with all the gallantry of it. Now that caused another eye roll, how stupid she had been.

No, she had the right of it before, there were more important things now, more important than social etiquette. She was on the run for goodness sake, she had more pressing issues at hand than the unladylike situation she was in!

"Sansa?" His voice jolted her back to the present, and she nodded, before leaning back once more. After all, she was comfortable with him, it was just a little embarrassing that was all. After all he was a man, she a woman … of course there would be some embarrassments, and her cheeks certainly showed that, flaming as she leaned back against him, clashing with her red hair.

But she didn't have to worry about anything … anything like _that_! After all, there was nothing like _that_ between them! Goodness, even her thoughts were a mess! No, she told herself firmly, there was nothing like that. Not only was Jaime much older than she, and a _Lannister_ for that matter, but he was only helping her to honour the vow he had made to her mother. It was nothing like _that_! She nodded to herself and put that thought to bed immediately.

Well … _sort of_. After all she couldn't help but think over the positives she had ignored. Jaime was very handsome yes, and he seemed to be kind to her. But then he was also arrogant, brash, quick to have a temper, and again, a _Lannister_! And so, this time she did put the thought to bed, and settled herself back.

However, soon her eyes drifted shut, the combination of the swaying of the horse, the warm weather overhead and the fact she was catching up on months of missed sleep lulled her into the land of dreams. It was nothing, absolutely nothing to do with the warm and reassuring presence of Jaime Lannister behind her …

At least that was what she told herself as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Hours later and Jaime was forced to shake the sleeping maiden awake. She was sleeping a fair bit, but he could hardly blame her. They didn't get much sleep at night in the forest, they were constantly on the move with not enough food, and no doubt she had enough sleep to be catching up on after her time in King's Landing.

Though Jaime didn't know what she had endured when stuck in the Capitol, he could guess it wasn't good. He knew his son … well his seed (for he had never been anything more), was a nasty piece of work, and then there was his father who was horrid to everyone, and then his sister … Oh Cersei.

He couldn't imagine what she was doing right now, likely wondering where he was and fuming over the escape of Sansa. He almost smiled at that as he dismounted the horse and shook Sansa's shoulder a little again, he could imagine her fury, something he'd always found amusing.

Oh, his dear sister, how he had loved her … and in some ways still did. However, his thoughts on that note had changed a little. His time in captivity had been illuminating in that regard. It had dawned on him just how … _toxic_ their relationship had been. He had always loved her of course, and in some ways always would, those feelings could likely never be shaken, but he had come to realise just how bad their relationship had been.

In truth it mainly consisted of them fighting, fucking, and him pretending to listen to her planning and scheming. He would always love her of course, but in truth most of his affection for her had been cured due to his stint as a prisoner, being on the road, turning his back on his family … that had illuminated it further.

"Sansa" He said gently, as he shook her once more, and she awoke with a small gasp. Her blue eyes opened, and she glanced around before realising she was safe, and he held out a hand to help her down. Her small hand slipped into his and he pulled her down from the horse as he did every day, before releasing her and motioning for her to head inside.

Sansa Stark now that was a puzzle. Of course, he was glad she was more comfortable with him, more trusting … but it also came with _complications_. He was a man after all! Spending all day with her pressed up against him, squirming sometimes, and then the sway of the horse. He knew it was wrong, to … get _those_ feelings, considering her age, and who she was, the little sister of the man his family was fighting. But he didn't see her like that! Of course, not, it was just a natural reaction … or at least that was what he told himself.

After all no one could deny her beauty. She was a stunning young woman, likely the most beautiful in the Seven Kingdoms. And she was still young, her beauty would likely blossom even more as she aged. Still, he had no business looking at like that, none at all.

But then it wasn't just that. Yes, he was attracted to her, as a hot-blooded male he could admit that to himself, but there was more than that. Sure, he was holding her up as his salvation (which he was still sure she was), but there were little things he noticed about her that endeared her to him.

She always offered him some of her food (though he never took it), her giggle was delightful, she blushed at practically everything, she had an adorable little grin. He couldn't help but notice those things. And then there were the more obvious things, the way she had clung to him when she had feared the knight in the tavern, the way she had cried into his chest, refusing to let go … all those things stirred some feelings in him.

Feelings he was not ready to acknowledge, not now, not ever if it were up to him.

Shaking those thoughts away (though they persisted in the back of his mind, they had since she had begun to be more comfortable and trusting around him), he followed her into the tavern.

As soon as he saw the inside, he pulled her to his side, tugged her hood up, and placed a hand on his sword. Every other place they'd been to had been quiet, but this place was overfilling with people.

He was tempted to turn around and leave, and yet they both needed food, desperately and he knew they would simply have to be careful. They didn't have that many choices on the road after all, and he knew the next place to pick up supplies was a two day ride away, they had no choice but to stop, unless they wished to go hungry for two days.

"Should we leave?" Sansa said, shuffling a bit closer as she spoke. He placed a hand around her waist then, pulling her flush against his side. He heard her squeal a bit, but she didn't protest, not when they were in this slightly worrying situation, and he was pulling her closer to protect her.

"No" He said back, moving them towards the front desk, "We need provisions, and the forest is too thin here to sleep in, just be careful and do not leave my side" He emphasised the last part of the sentence, as that part was imperative.

At her nod he pulled them to the front desk, to the man who looked quite harried and beleaguered, but turned to greet them all the same. The innkeeper clearly had been busy, and Jaime hoped to leave the man be as quickly as possible, hoped to get them up to a room, away from the abundance of people downstairs.

"Room for 2?" The man said, reaching for a key on the board behind the desk with a look of a man ready to sleep for a week.

"Yes" Jaime replied, with an attempt at a smile, after all they had to act natural. He couldn't see any soldiers around, it seemed to be mainly families, but he wouldn't risk drawing suspicion to them. "Two beds though"

"Sorry" The innkeeper replied, placing the key down on the desk, "We've only got double rooms, and only one left" He jerked his head at the two couples now cueing behind them, "You want it or not?" He asked, and Jaime nodded his head, making a snap decision since they didn't really have any other choice.

Sansa didn't comment but he saw her eyes widen as he placed down some money and took the key, ordered food to their room with the slapping down of a golden dragon and then hurried them off to the stairs.

"One bed?" She asked in surprise as they made their way to their room, thankfully it wasn't far.

"Not ideal I'll admit, but we can't sleep in the forest here, and we need food and supplies" He said, and in a tone that said it was done and dusted. He noticed her frown and the red tinge to her cheeks, but she nodded and followed him down the corridor without further protest of question, until he opened the door for them to their room, and motioned her inside.

The room was tiny, one double bed crammed into the space, and a small table next to it, no space at all. He raised an eyebrow but was thankful to see a separate room leading off with a bath and privy inside, at least now he could have a moment to himself, to consider over what was about to happen. "I'm going to wash" He said with a sharp nod, and he left her to sit on the bed before he closed himself in the bathroom.

Once inside he let out a deep breath. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!" He exclaimed in a whisper to himself. This was bad, this was _really_ bad. There was no room on the floor for him to sleep, which meant sharing a bed, sharing a bed with Sansa Stark.

Hurriedly he went about washing himself, as a means of distraction if anything else. This was not ideal, not in the slightest, but after five minutes alone in the bathroom he was calmer. They would have to make do, it was as simple as that, after all, what choice did they have?

He knew it wasn't a great situation, the fact he'd be sleeping in bed with her, but they'd both wear their small clothes, sleep far enough apart, and keep their hands to themselves. It would be fine! Or at least that was what he told himself as he returned to the room, dressed in a simple pair of breeches he'd bought at their last stop, and a plain tunic, they each had two changes of clothes now, and so he felt clean, if a little jittery.

He came back into the room to find her tucking into dinner (and avoiding looking at him) to which he joined her in the former. Neither said anything during the meal. He knew they were both thinking the same thing, of the giant elephant in the room, that they'd have to share a bed. Still, he remained quiet on it, and just nodded as she excused herself to the bathroom to wash up.

Jaime took the time to get into the bed, on the side closest to the door, and lie himself down. Damn a bed felt good after the hard forest floor he could admit that, and yet he found he couldn't relax. Of course, he knew why, and he glared at the bathroom. Goddamn it, after the thoughts he'd been having, this was exactly what should be avoided! Not just that, but the situation itself was a nightmare!

About half an hour later Sansa emerged from the bathroom. She was clean and scrubbed, her hair left loose down her back, and she was dressed … in her small clothes, which did cover her up, but evidently, she was embarrassed to be wearing.

He only glanced her way for only a second before looking away, as she scrambled into bed next to him, her cheeks burning pink. He didn't glance over again, both hoping to spare her any embarrassment, and also avoiding looking at the fact Sansa was lying in bed next to him.

Jaime wished he could just sleep, to ignore this problem, but he could see Sansa was practically falling off the bed in trying to make distance between them and was as stiff and tense as a rod, he knew he was likely the same when it came to the latter. And so, with a small sigh, he turned his head to look at her. "Sansa?" She flinched as soon as he said her name, and he gritted his teeth, well this wouldn't be easy.

"I know this isn't ideal" He said, and he watched as she turned to face him, her eyes wide with fear. "But I hope you know I won't hurt you … nor touch you, you need not fear that from me" He reassured her, or at least tried to, he knew his voice was tense, but he hoped his expression was kind, for of course he meant the words he said in earnest.

"I know that" She said, surprise colouring her voice, and he found himself smiling at her trust in him, that was what made him feel warm inside, how she trusted him truly, it made him feel strong, feel _honourable_ \- in truth she was the only person to ever really make him feel like that. "I'm just … I've never slept in a bed with a man before" She said in explanation, to which he nodded his head, trying to be understanding, after all this was new to her. He was nervous as well, no doubt she was a bundle of nerves herself in comparison.

"Well don't worry" He said, trying to appear calm, hoping it would radiate onto her, he didn't want any tension he was feeling to make her feel worse, "All we'll do is sleep, of course, you're safe" She nodded again, and then sunk down into the bed, her tension seemingly gone … or at least lessened. He too allowed himself to relax and settled into sleep.

Well that had been easier than he had anticipated. He hoped his reassurance was just that, _reassuring_. It wasn't the best of situations, but it was a temporary affair, and they both needed rest, a proper night's rest in a bed, and that was what they were getting, no matter the circumstances.

"Jaime?" He heard her voice, a whisper in the dark room, as the moonlight dimmed, and he debated pretending to be asleep in case things became awkward again, but instead he cleared his throat and spoke.

"Yes, Sansa?" He asked, his voice gentle for once, his eyes remaining shut.

"Thank you" Was all she said, and he found himself smiling again, the awkwardness forgotten.

He wasn't sure why she did what she did next, in finding his hand with hers and slipping her fingers between his, but he didn't resist, in truth he _didn't want_ to resist. Instead he continued to smile, and as he flicked his eyes open and looked across at her, he saw she too was smiling, and had closed her eyes. She looked peaceful, truly peaceful, and it was the first time he could _ever_ recall her looking as such, it warmed him, and on instinct he leaned forward and placed the gentlest of kisses to her forehead before settling back, his hand still encasing hers, each of them lying on their sides, facing one another, at ease ... in a way Jaime hadn't thought possible. If anything, he noticed her smile grow then, but she didn't open her eyes, apparently content.

"Goodnight Sansa" He said gently, and he saw her nod, that peaceful smile still in place.

"Goodnight Jaime"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo thoughts? 
> 
> now ofc this story is slowburn, these two are gunna be slowwww but there will be regular developments, I hope you enjoy! lemme know d'you prefer slowburn? or not? 
> 
> speak soon


	8. Lonely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> authorsnote: your lovely comments on this story keep me going, ty to everyone who commented on the last chapter. 
> 
> pls enjoy, lemme know if you did. 
> 
> songrecs: the power of love - gabrielle aplin

The next morning crept up on them, the sun usually blinding this far South had given way to some rare rain, that meant they were awoken an hour later than usual, the dim light of the dawn only just creeping in through their curtains, far later than normal.

It was peaceful, the gentle patter of the rain outside, the softness of the bed, the warmth, for he was so warm, _deliciously_ so, he hadn't felt warmth like this in months, no longer, over a year perhaps. The last time he remembered a warmth like this had been with his twin by his side.

Ahh, Cersei, he did not want to think of her. His poisonous sister who he would have once given everything too, but now he had turned against, both in his own feelings towards her and his actions. His captivity, cured him of his affection yes, but had also given him some perspective, on how poorly she had treated him, how yes she had loved him, he believed that, but how she had loved power more, a love he could never compete with, and frankly didn't want to anymore.

How times could change. Sure, he still loved his twin, part of him always would, but he couldn't go back to how it was before, he knew that now.

But he was too peaceful to think of Cersei, or his father who was likely raging over Sansa's escape and his continued disappearance, he didn't want to think of the snake pit that was King's Landing, or worry about how his little brother was faring in the lion's den (though he shouldn't worry, he was sure Tyrion gave Cersei more than a run for her money when it came to scheming and slyness). He couldn't imagine what it was like in the Capitol at the moment.

Nor did he want to, no, he didn't want to think of any of that, not when he was so content, so comfortable.

Though years as a soldier made him question why he was so warm, and so at ease, when he should be the opposite. He was on the run with Sansa Stark, a wanted woman, one of the most important women in the country now, a key hostage. So, why was he so comfortable?

With a soft groan, he forced himself to confront it, to open his eyes, when all he really wanted was to fall back into sleep, to let the temptation of how comfortable he was lull him back in, as it easily would if he let it.

But he didn't, instead he forced himself to open his eyes, to glance around the darkened room, the candle having blown itself out in the night, and the curtains barely letting the dimmest of dawn lights in. He turned his head to the side, to his right, for he had slept by the door, and there he found her, and he found himself relax a little bit further, Sansa, by his side, _safe_.

After all, this was why he was risking everything; his life, the love of his family, his place; _everything_ , for her, for Sansa Stark, the woman who he was sure would redeem his honour.

And she was here, fast asleep, content, a smile playing across her sleeping features, a smile he found himself mimicking. She seemed happy, like she had the past day with him, and it warmed him inside.

Something else was … warm as well, as he realised just how cosy they had gotten over the night. He still held her hand, as they had fallen asleep too, but somehow his other arm had snaked underneath her neck in the night, and her leg was draped across his calves. It was innocent, they were hardly tangled together, and he told himself it was just the warmth that had clearly unconsciously prompted them to pull closer to one another, and he also told himself it was just how relaxed he was and it was normal that he had a morning … surprise. It was fine, he told himself, but as he looked at Sansa's face, he realised … perhaps it wasn't.

He was attracted to her, he could admit that, she was a beautiful woman, with likely more room to grow into her beauty, and he acknowledged from their time on horseback together that he was attracted to her, but as he looked across at her, smiling, he realised it was becoming more dangerous than mere attraction, it was becoming something stronger, and at that he knew he had to break away, for he couldn't lay here anymore looking at her face, at her smile, and thinking of his feelings; it was too dangerous, _far too dangerous_.

And yet it seemed he didn't need to pick between slinking out of the bed or shaking her awake, as her eyelids began to flutter, and she woke in what seemed to be the same way he had stirred, with that lazy smile on her features, completely at ease. Sure, he felt glad she was feeling comfortable with him, that she seemed to have accepted his role as protector (and that was all he could be he told himself), but it unnerved him, just how comfortable they had become with one another so quickly.

She seemed at ease, as her eyes fluttered open, for a moment or two she was just smiling, no longer than a second, but she looked across at him with a smile, and an ease, until like it had to him the situation dawned on her, and her eyes widened, those beautiful blue orbs, flying fully open in alarm, and she quickly released his hand, pulled her leg back and pulled herself into a sitting position.

He followed, though didn't push back the covers as she had … as he had something to cover up. He understood her quick need to sit up when the situation had dawned on her, and he did the same, for they had ended up a little … _too_ close the night before, clearly.

"I erm" She said, but did not elaborate further, her cheeks were burning now, and Jaime was reminded of the night before when she had admitted this was the first time she'd slept in a bed with a man … he had to quash the desire to tease her, as he would have normally done, and instead, he sought to reassure her, for she was looking uncomfortable, and he knew his usual easy teasing and laughter would just make it worse.

"Don't be worried Sansa" He said gently, that smile still on his features, though it was punctured with a little bit of seriousness now, more because of his own dangerous thoughts than her reaction, "It seems the highway man of an inkeep decided a golden dragon does not buy a fire in the room, evidently we were just cold" He said, giving them both an easy out to their close behaviour the night before, and in their sleep.

Her quick and furious nod indicated he'd made the right decision in covering up just what had happened the night before.

After all, … _yes_ , in sleep they'd sought one another out, and he could admit it likely wasn't just for warmth, as their behaviour the past day and night reflected. It was a desire to be close to someone, to chase away the loneliness. After all, though he didn't know much about her time in captivity with his family, he could imagine it had been lonely, as had his time in captivity with her family had been.

It had been not just about warmth, but seeking comfort, that was clear as day to him, and as he looked across at Sansa, her expression mainly hidden by her hair, he caught a glimpse in her eye that she realised that too.

"It's okay Sansa" He said gently, though part of him wanted to just shove aside what had happened and use an easy excuse, part of him knew he needed to acknowledge that both their behaviour and view towards one another had shifted, his certainly had, and he could tell, hers had too. "It's normal, I think you, as have I, have been lonely for quite a long time" His voice was kind, a kindness he showed to few, and yet seemed to be showing Sansa more than he had any other person.

She froze then, he could see that, at him admitting it hadn't just been about warmth, their actions; the hand holding, the closeness. He knew he'd been lonely, he could admit that, even before his time in a muddy Stark cell, he had been lonely at battle, and even before then with his sister … well Cersei had a unique way of making a person feel lonely even when she was with them. Loneliness was a powerful, horrifying thing, and they had both acted (whether awake or asleep), out of a desire to chase away such a feeling.

She didn't speak then, but she moved, turned to him, her eyes glistening with what looked like tears, but she didn't cry, no.

Instead she just moved closer to him, and wrapped her arms around his neck, to which he embraced her, pulling her close, one arm around her waist, the other hand coming to cradle her head as she placed her head on his chest. He held her close, and nether cried, or had the desperation of that day in the rain, but there was a desperation, to not be lonely, to be with someone … and it dawned on Jaime, he didn't want to be here with anyone but Sansa.

"I don't feel lonely with you" She said gently, into his chest, so quietly he'd almost missed it. He smiled at her then, and nodded his head, as though to agree, and held her close, as the rain quickened, and morning chased away.

* * *

As the morning continued on, they went about readying themselves for the day. She was aware that morning they'd let down their guard a little, in sleeping in, eating breakfast at the inn before heading out, lingering to check on the horse

… and let they have let their guard down in others way too.

When she had awoken to Jaime looking at her, to her leg across his, to her hand still encased in his and her head having fallen to rest on his arm, it had unnerved her, and worried her.

Would he judge her? Would he be mad? But _no_ … he had shown caring, kindness, and put her worries completely at ease. He had made her feel comfortable, in a way few ever had. Part of her tried to talk some sense into herself, that a big reason for her shift in feelings towards Jaime Lannister, was because of the fact he'd saved her, and was protecting her, that he was exactly like the shining Knight she had dreamt of when younger … but then part of her knew, it wasn't _just_ that.

He was kind when he tried, made her laugh with his teasing, and he had more honour than she had thought. She had become comfortable with, and god forbid … he was not like any other Lannister she'd ever met … her view on him had _completely_ changed, that much was evident.

It scared her a little, that she'd become comfortable with Jaime Lannister; the Kingslayer, a man without honour as they called him. And yet she felt she was seeing another side to him, a side few had seen … a side she liked, a side that flew in the face of everything she had thought she knew about him.

"Ready?" He broke her out of her thoughts then, as he stood in front of their horse, holding his arms out. She stepped into them with no hesitation as he lifted her onto the horse before jumping in behind her, his arms circling her as they always did.

At the start she'd leaned away from, tried to keep distance, and felt disgust when he had brushed against her. Now though? Now she leaned back against his chest, closed her eyes in contentment, she felt comfortable, his touch didn't revolt her anymore, it was comfortable to her, a comfort truly.

Part of her knew it was dangerous to think of Jaime in that way, with a smile … after all he was still a _Lannister_ , and she'd heard tales of his cruelty, and had seen his fierce temper one on one … and yet she couldn't shake her feelings over how kind he'd been to her, gone out of his way to put her at ease, how he was protecting her. Was she being stupid again? She didn't know … but in truth she didn't really want to question it. She wanted to keep this feeling, of feeling safe, comfortable … and most importantly she wanted to keep this feeling of happiness she had.

She was on her way back to her family, she had escaped King's Landing and she had someone by her side who she knew she was starting to care about even though she knew she shouldn't, she was happy, and after so long being so unhappy, she did not want to lose this feeling of contentment she had now.

"You said the next stop was a two days ride?" She said gently, and she felt him nod as he turned them out of the stables, and back onto the road, leading the horse forward into a run, eating up the miles as they rode on.

"Yes, our next Castle will be Antlers, but that's three days away, two days to grab supplies, we'll stop just outside of Antlers and then onto the Riverland's" He said with a smile, and she heard the teasing in his voice at the mention of the Riverland's.

Of course she couldn't help but respond, a little squeal of delight leaving her lips … hardly ladylike and yet she couldn't contain her excitement at the idea that soon they'd be out of the Crownlands, into her mother's country, it was almost too good to be true!

So, for a moment she didn't care about being a lady (though in truth being a lady had hardly been on her mind of recent … she'd come to realise there were many more important things than courtesies), and she let out a squeal of joy.

He laughed in response, she felt the rumbling against her back and heard his laugh, a laugh she liked very much, for it was full, and honest, without even a hint of laughing at her in a mean way. It was nice, and she turned to grin at him for a moment, just enough to catch the smile slide off his face, as he looked over her shoulder then. She went to look back around but instead he slowed the horse, and moved one of his hands to her waist, yanking her to keep her facing him. Part of her wanted to protest the fact he yanked her a little too tightly, but at his expression she kept quiet.

Something was wrong.

"What?" She asked, her voice barely a whisper as he kept the horse going, but at more of gentle trot than a run.

"Soldiers" He said simply, his eyes still on the people behind her.

As soon as he said that word her blood ran cold, and she was surprised she didn't throw up her breakfast immediately out of fear. She tried to keep calm, they had known this might happen … and yet it scared her silly. To be so close to the Riverland's, she couldn't be caught now, she _couldn't_ , she _wouldn't_. It was clear just how scared she was as she began to tremble, and Jaime glanced down at her quickly, his eyes full of concern as she could see.

"Can't we just run away?" Again, her voice was a whisper, but shook more now, her fear evident.

"Too suspicious" He murmured back, and she nodded in understanding. "Now don't say a word, but turn around, swing your leg over so you're facing me, and put your head on my chest, and turn your head away, and pull your cloak up" His stream of instructions hurried out, and yet Sansa rushed to comply, leg swung over, cloak pulled up, and then head resting on his chest. She felt his arms go around her, pulling the reigns but embracing her closer … out of comfort or to dull her shaking she wasn't sure, but she appreciated it either way, it helped. "And do not say a word" She nodded then, her lips shut, firmly.

It felt like hours passed as she heard the horses go past, as she saw Jaime bow his head, focus on the top of her head like it was the most important thing in the world. And yet … the soldiers soon passed, without event, and Sansa allowed herself a sigh of relief, and felt tears leak down her cheeks at pure relief that they hadn't been caught, that luck seemed to be on their side or rather Jaime's quick thinking was.

"Oh thank goodness" She said, lifting her head then to look at Jaime, who now was looking at her again, but he didn't express any relief, instead he continued to look down at her, bringing the horse to a stop, his eyes never leaving hers, her gaze locked in his; sapphire blue to emerald green. "Jaime?"

But he didn't speak, not a word, instead he moved forward. It would have been a lie to say she couldn't see it coming, and another lie to say she didn't have time to refuse or move away; she did, and yet she didn't move, if anything she leaned in a little…

...she leaned in, as Jaime Lannister's lips met hers.

It was just a moment, but by god, it was a moment Sansa Stark would always remember, a moment _burned_ into her heart as his lips met hers, soft, gentle, not insistent but not slack either. As his hands splayed against her back, but one moved up to cup her cheek soon after. It was a beautiful moment, as though fireworks had imploded overhead … a kiss, a kiss she hadn't realised just how _badly_ she had wanted until it happened.

As soon as he kissed her it dawned on her how much she had wanted it, as her hands moved, one to cup his face, the other to twine in his blonde hair. This was her first proper kiss, and she didn't entirely know what to do, so, she let Jaime lead, and goodness it was _magnificent_.

It wasn't long, not drawn out, but it felt like it, it felt like hours of the two of them, trapped in such an embrace, lips to lips, her lips even tilting up in a smile as he began to break free, and he soon followed suit, smiling too as he pulled back.

It was then he spoke.

"I...I'm sorry I just" For the first time she heard Jaime Lannister stumbling and it was completely endearing, and in a moment of boldness she leaned forward, to press her lips to his this time, a moment of boldness she hadn't known she was capable of; and yet it made her feel good, it made her feel _strong_. And she relished that feeling almost as much as the feeling of kissing Jaime Lannister, for she wasn't sure anything could top that feeling.

As the second kiss broke, she didn't move, and Jaime didn't let her, as he kept a hand on her cheek, and leaned down to rest his forehead against hers. A small sigh left her lips, a sigh of contentment of happiness, and Jaime laughed in response, to which a giggle left her lips too.

"My god" She said, before giggling once more, and burying her face in her hands. She knew her cheeks must be on fire, and yet for once she didn't care, as Jaime lifted her chin with his thumb to look her in the eyes once more, he was still smiling, as she knew she was.

How could she not be? She had just had her first proper kiss, and it had felt perfect, it had been perfect, she just hoped he felt the same.

"Why were you saying sorry?" She asked, her voice gentle, still smiling, but curious about his words, a tad worried even he regretted it.

"Because I don't know if you wanted me to do that…" He paused then, his brow furrowing, but his smile continued, "And yet I had to, when we passed those soldiers, and I knew we were safe, that you were still with me … I just had to"

She nodded in response, as though in understanding, and couldn't help but giggle again, to which he laughed at her, but kindly, before leaning down and placing a kiss to her forehead this time, to which she let out another little sigh with a smile. He then whipped the leathers on the horse to put them back in a run, and Sansa Stark's giggles followed them, as did his laughter, as they rode on to the Riverland's, both smiling from ear to ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo thoughts? 
> 
> they kissed! they finally kissed! pop the champagne bby! I legit squealed. is a kiss at chapter 8 slowburn? idk, but hell it just came to me and I had to! I do hope you like how it was done and there are still some things to confront, this couple got issues out the wazoo, but we gotta have the nice moments too! angst/fluff, hand in hand.
> 
> I do hope you enjoyed, subscribe to get updates! comment to lemme know your thoughts and make me grin.
> 
> speak soon


	9. Smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> authorsnotes: here we go, enjoy. 
> 
> newish pov? (2nd time), tell me if you like it. as always this story will be 90% sansa/jaime pov, with others smattered in occasionally. 
> 
> songrecs: shallow - asib (cried like a bby at this movie, it is dope go watch it)

"Any word?"

God it felt like these meetings were a daily thing now and already Tyrion was sick of them (not that he'd ever voice that to his father). Every day he climbed the hundred odd stairs to the Tower of the Hand, his little legs always cramping afterward from the climb. He'd sit as everyone spoke a whole bunch of nothing and then climb back down, a massage sorely needed as his legs hurt in every possible way, his entire day now accompanied by leg pain.

It was an annoying part of his everyday life now as small council meetings had become a daily occurrence, with one constant daily topic.

The Stark girl and his brother.

It had been almost two weeks now and they were nowhere to be found. No little bird had tracked either of them down, no spies had seen hair nor hide of them, it was as though they had simply disappeared. The Stark girl had fled the capitol and was either on her way to being reunited with her brother, or dead in a ditch on the side of the King's Road, and his brother? That was ever more a mystery.

Spies had confirmed he had escaped Robb Stark and had been seen making his way South but now? Now he had disappeared too. There was no word on either of them and Tyrion was worried about them, both of them.

He hoped Sansa Stark was safe, she was an innocent, even if it would be bad for the Lannister's he hoped she made it back to her family. She was naive in all of this; she didn't deserve to be slaughtered.

But more than he hoped for Sansa, he hoped for Jaime, his favourite family member and one of the only people he loved. He hoped Jaime would come home soon, he hoped soon enough he'd walk into the Red Keep unharmed smiling and laughing that they had ever worried.

And yet today would not be that day as again there was no new information. Tyrion fought the urge to roll his eyes as both Pycelle, Varys and Littlefinger had nothing new to add but promised to remain vigilant, what use was that?

"Tyrion anything?" His father turned his glare on his youngest son and Tyrion didn't even bother to sit up properly, and only met his father's gaze with indifference, for at this point these meetings to him were pointless.

"You know I control few spies father" Tyrion said simply, "And none have seen the Stark girl or Jaime" He said with a shake of his head, "It as though they have disappeared into thin air'

"She's probably dead" Cersei said cuttingly, though she dropped her gaze as their father turned to glare at her, his dear sister was still blamed for Sansa's escape and had been walking on eggshells around their father ever since.

"Well let's hope so" Tywin Lannister shot back, "Else she'll soon reunite with her brother and better her dead than that" Tyrion pursed his lips at that. Yes, having Sansa back would be an advantage to Robb Stark, but should they really be wishing for a 16-year-old chit to be dead? No doubt after rape and torture? No.

Sure, Tyrion wanted the Lannister's to win this war, for reason of him _being_ one, but he did not feel that Sansa Stark need be caught in the crossfire.

"If she returns to him then morale will be boosted and he'll realise we no longer have any bargaining chips against him, for surely he knows about the younger Stark sister now" Tywin said with another glare at Cersei, one that spoke of disgust. "She cannot return to him"

"Have your spies continue their searches, we'll convene again tomorrow" He said and that was the last note before he swept out of the room and thus, they were all dismissed.

Ahh, time for the walk down, and perhaps for a change from a massage an ice bath to soothe his aching legs. There was another meeting tomorrow, and no doubt there would be another after that until both Jaime and Sansa came home. He had no doubt Jaime would, that his brother was indisposed for some reason and would soon return with a smile. But the Stark girl? Tyrion and everyone else in the council room knew by now, dead, or alive she was gone.

* * *

Again, something had changed between them, but this time it would even be noticeable to an outsider, things were different now, more so than before and for the better too…at least she felt so.

Something had shifted, and Sansa was smiling more than she had in months. In fact, her cheek muscles had stung for a day or two after the kiss, for she was unused to using them for so long. Now her smile felt like a constant companion, and Jaime was much the same.

She had worried after they had kissed that things may become awkward, but instead they had become easier. Sure, they hadn't kissed since, nor mentioned it, but they smiled together more, laughed more, shared closer touches, and each night as they slept, they often held hands, and woke a little more tangled than the day before.

Sansa wasn't sure if something was blossoming or they were simply basking in not being lonely, but either way she wasn't going to complain. It felt nice, to have arms around her that spoke of comfort, to have a kiss to the forehead that felt full of warmth, to hear a laugh that was with her, not at her. It was nice and she didn't want to give it up.

They had been riding for just shy of two weeks now and Sansa couldn't believe how long it took for them to travel from place to place. She had asked Jaime once why it was taking so long when she recalled the King and his entire entourage had made it to Winterfell in barely over a month. He had then asked teasingly if the King had been hiding from Lannister soldiers and riding on one tired horse. At that she had blushed and in a fit of unladylike childishness had stuck her tongue out at him. He had laughed at that and her laughter had joined his as they rode down the Kings Road. In fact, they had been mistaken by a wandering Sept for a couple who had given them a blessing. At that the laughter had stopped and Sansa's cheeks had heated even more.

"Sansa?" Jaime spoke her name and she jolted out of her thoughts then with a little nod at whatever he had been saying. He did not need to know she had been thinking about him ... though she rarely _wasn't_ nowadays. "Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes?" Sansa replied never noticing the way her voice would lilt when she lied. Sansa had been a poor liar before she had gone to Kings Landing but had gotten worryingly good at it during her stay in the capitol. Thankfully now she had left she was starting to lose that hardened shell of courtesies and lies she had been forced to form during her stay.

She was glad to be regaining who she was before she had gone South. She didn't like being forced to rely on courtesy and lies, always having a wall up. She liked being herself, guard down, perhaps naive, and even though Jaime often called her out when she tried to lie (though it was rare and only white lies), she often found she liked that she wasn't fooling him.

She also acknowledged that not only had her skill at lying gotten worse but Jaime was also a very good judge of character, she could see it when he looked at her, it sometimes felt like he could see right into her, into the depths of her, she wasn't sure if that warmed her or made her feel cold.

"I'll let you off this time" Jaime said with a smirk and Sansa rolled his eyes. She was sat in front of him on their horse, but she could practically feel the smirk on his expression. Still her scoff at his words caught in her throat as he spoke again, raising his arm from the reigns to point forward then, "Look, I was just saying where we've reached"

Sansa let out a little gasp as she followed Jaime's point to where they had reached. They were still some ways off and Sansa knew they wouldn't actually enter the castle but yet she felt undeniable happiness they had reached it. She also felt a little awe at the large keep; sure, she had seen it on the way down South, but it wasn't quite nothing to her yet, as it was still an _amazing_ sight. For several minutes she simply took it in, and then turned to Jaime with a smile.

 _Harrenhal_.

It was truly a magnificent structure, even melted and damaged as it was. It was still phenomenal, beautiful in its own way ruined or not. She found herself staring at it as Jaime rode them closer. To a 16-year-old girl castles certainly looked other worldly and impossible, how could they not? And Harrenhal had been the most amazing of them all.

She only turned away to look at Jaime with a grin and noticed he had the same expression before his gaze met hers. Perhaps castles always remained this intimidating and amazing? She hoped to never lose that wonder in her mind, for who wouldn't want to feel so amazed by something so wonderful?

And Harrenhal represented something else as well, and that was why Sansa smiled so wide as she looked back at Jaime. "We're getting closer" She said and Jaime nodded with a grin, even letting out a little laugh at her expression, one that was filled with hope and joy, an expression she had seldom had in the past few months to a year. It felt good to smile, to feel hope, it felt needed after so long of sombre expressions and cynicism. "We're getting closer to my brother!"

"Yes, we are" Jaime said back with a grin, and she couldn't help but squeal, to which he laughed again before planting a kiss on her forehead and wrapping his hands around the reigns once more. "Come on then little wolf, the forest tonight under Harrenhal's shadow, and then closer to your brother again"

Another squeal then, another burst of laughter from Jaime as he turned them into the forest and rode them into safety and shelter for the night. With each night's sleep they got closer and closer, with each day that passed and each mile they trekked they got closer and closer. Now the idea of Sansa reuniting with Robb, with her mother; it didn't feel like such a distant dream or hope, it felt like it could be real, and it could be soon.

She was smiling the whole way as Jaime led them into the forest and set out the blankets, they had bought at the last market side by side, close enough to touch as they slept now. She continued to grin as Jaime laid dinner out for them and then described their next stops and routes.

They would go around Harrenhal, then up to the Trident, perhaps chance a ship up the Green Fork and if not ride by its side on the edge by the Vale up the Kings Road. Then to the Twins and if Robb had already moved on, then off to Winterfell, up the Kings Road to the North.

He had it all planned out with a promise of stops in both inns and in the forest, to ensure they didn't get caught but didn't die of exhaustion at the same time.

Sansa's smile continued as Jaime shook his head at her in a good-natured fashion and then patted down the blankets by his side. Sansa laid down then, happy even as the cold bit at her and she tugged the blankets closer, smiling still even as the stars refused to wink through the overcast sky and instead it was just a greyish black, grinning even as she heard the hoot of an owl, the startling rush of the wind.

She didn't care at that moment that her gown was muddy, that her hair was in a messy plait with a leaf or two no doubt embedded in it, and that she had dirt under her fingernails. She was getting closer and closer to home, and so her smile refused to stop.

She didn't notice Jaime smiling at her as she drifted off to sleep with a grin on her face, nor did she notice her own hand curling around his as sleep took her.

* * *

He slept well for many a reason. The blankets they had picked up at the last market were a good shield against the cold, and Sansa now slept happily next to him, and she certainly radiated some extra heat, and they curled up close to one another, it was nice to share some warmth.

The first time they'd slept next to one another she'd perhaps have a foot over his calf, or end up with her head on his arm, but now? In the night she would squirm into his arms, head falling to his chest, arms looping around him, legs tangled with his, always curled into him now.

He didn't complain, only laughed a little as Sansa blushed furiously each time, he woke her and quickly disentangled herself, bright red across her cheeks and neck. It was cute, and her blush had deepened and spread when he pointed that out.

That night as she drifted off her hand was in his and soon her feet were tucked between his calves. The sound of the wind was oddly soothing to him as he slept, and so yes, he had slept well, the main reason however being what he had been thinking of as he had fallen asleep, Sansa Stark's smile.

Her little grin had sent him off to sleep with a smile. She was clearly thrilled that with each day they were closer to the Riverland's and her brother. She was grinning from ear to ear as he had pointed Harrenhal out to her and hadn't stopped smiling since. He found it adorable, and was happy for her, _truly_ happy.

She deserved all of this and more after the pain she had endured, she deserved to be happy, to have hope, and the fact he was the one giving it to her in a sense? Now that had him smiling too.

And so, he awoke, well rested and comfortable, however not as comfortable as every other morning, instead he felt colder, a little unsettled, and as soon as he opened his eyes he realised why.

She was _gone_.

He was up in a second darting up and searching around wildly. His gaze caught that of her stuff still on the ground, the horse still sleeping nearby tethered to a tree. Logically if she'd been attempting an escape, she would have taken her stuff and stolen the horse, and surely, she was past the point of not trusting him now? He knew she wouldn't have ran off, Sansa wasn't that good an actress, she was comfortable with him now, trusted him, she wouldn't leave.

And so, he worried. Had she been kidnapped? How had he not woken up if so? Jaime was not a heavy sleeper, surely, he would have heard something? Unless she had deliberately been quiet in waking so not to wake him? But why would she be quiet at a kidnapping? Had her kidnapper held a sword to her throat? Had they threatened her?

His mind raced with a million possibilities, and he quickly went about grabbing his sword, securing it to his belt, happy for the first time he often chose to sleep in his full clothes instead of taking off his jacketed tunic. He was swift in readying himself, for he had to find her. He _would_ find her, and ensure he saved her from whatever had happened.

Not only was Sansa his last chance for honour, for salvation but she had become _more_ than that, he knew that. She was more than just a relic of the chance to gain back his honour, she was someone he cared for, he could admit that now, as unsettling as it was to do so.

When she laughed, he caught himself watching her, when she smiled, he smiled too without even meaning to. When she slept, he knew not only did she find him in the night, but he pulled her closer to. On the horse he wrapped his arms tighter around her than necessary. Sansa Stark was important to him now, no matter in what way, and so he would find her, he _would_.

At the start of this journey she had been his duty, his honour, now she was more, and he wasn't about to let her go.

"Jaime?" He whipped around in an instance, hand on his sword, and Sansa shrieked in response, the water skins in her hands thudding to the floor as she dropped them in surprise. "What are you doing, why have you..."

She couldn't finish the sentence as Jaime surged towards her, placed a hand on the back of her neck and tugged her forward without a word or question. He knew tension ran through him then, and his arms were shaking as he pulled her close to him, not as gentle as he should be in his worry.

Sansa seemed to realise his worry as she gently wrapped her arms around his back and settled into the embrace, as he just held her close, breathed her in, reassured himself she was safe.

"What's wrong?" She asked, her voice so gentle and concerned he felt bad for making her worry, even though he had been the one convinced she had been kidnapped or in danger. He had been out of his mind with worry for a few minutes and he felt guilty now for making her worried with his behaviour.

He took another second before speaking, "I awoke and you were gone, usually I wake up first, and since I couldn't see you anywhere I was worried" He said, a shaky breath leaving his lips before he managed to

* * *

scompose himself, pulling back to look at Sansa, his hand not leaving her neck though as she took a step back, her expression one of more confusion than worry or fear. "I overreacted I'm sorry"

"You were worried about me" She replied, still looking a little confused by such a thing, and he only nodded in response. At that Sansa was the one to step back into his arms, and he appreciated the comfort, given to him without him having to wound his pride further and ask.

That was one thing about Sansa he appreciated; she seemed to always know what he needed, whether it be comfort, or whether it to be left alone. She seemed to be able to read him well, just as he could read when she needed a hug or when she wanted to sit in silence and be left be. As the days went by, they understood one another more and _more_.

"I worry about you too" She said simply, and Jaime nodded, his body relaxing as she hugged into him and he rested his cheek atop her head, pulling her a little closer. Just like that, Sansa knew the perfect thing to say, she always did.

"You needn't worry about me, it is my job to keep you safe, not the other way around" He said with a small smile against her hair, and he felt her shake her head against him.

"No" She said and pulled back again to look up at him, her arms moving to circle his neck, and he wrapped his arms around her waist in response, "Maybe we can worry about each other?" She said gently, and he almost kissed her at just how sweet she sounded.

"And keep each other safe?" He smiled down at her then, not one of teasing or a smirk, but a proper smile, and he warmed as she smiled back at him.

"Maybe we should" He replied, and again he pulled her closer, as she went on tip toes to squeeze him into the hug he pulled her into, and for many a minute they simply remained in one another's embrace; something they were getting good at now, losing time to simply holding one another, and yet to neither of them did it feel like lost time.

It felt like time they wanted to cherish, in one another's arms, like time that was purer than anything else.

* * *

He was here, the North.

He was home now, and Winterfell was less than a day's ride away. They were home, _home,_ and yet the pack was not complete, not yet.

For what must have been the thousandth time he turned his head to look South, as though hoping he could search for his sister by simply looking in the direction she was in. He hated having to leave her behind, to abandon her to return home. He hated that she was probably alone and scared… if she was even alive.

He tried not to think like that, for he didn't want to think she was dead. He tried to have hope, he had to have hope. Arya showing up helped that, for she had survived against the odds. He had to hope that Sansa would too.

He just hoped his little sister was okay. He hoped she was safe and warm and, on her way, back to him perhaps? For she had escaped, he could only hope she was heading North, towards him, towards home. He knew a large part of the reason Arya had survived had been due to the Hound, and he kind of hoped Sansa had found someone like that, a protector to keep her safe, to look over her. He could only hope, that was all he could do for now.

For now, he had a duty to do, a duty to his home, to his people, to his men who had crowned him King. He needed to take back his home and then prepare to march South once more. Winterfell remained in the grip of the Iron Born and Robb had to take it back.

"Shall we ride on your Grace?" His squire Oliver Frey spoke, and Robb could only nod his head.

"Ride on" He said, with another look back South he spurred the horse; it was time to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soo thoughts?
> 
> this was one of my fav chapters to write, the tender moments between jaime/sansa make me smile, I hope they make you smile too! 
> 
> subscribe for updates, comment to give me your thoughts (lol that sounds oddly sinister).
> 
> speak soon


	10. Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> authornotes: honestly this chapter makes my heart race, and I freaking wrote it.
> 
> subscribe for updates, pls enjoy.
> 
> songrecs: lovely - billie eilish, khalid

Harrenhal loomed overhead even as they rode away from it. It was so large, so dark, a blot across the sky as it towered over everything. It was intimidating and Sansa couldn't imagine what it would have looked like whole, before the inhabitants had been roasted alive, the walls scorched, and the towers melted. She couldn't imagine how much more imposing it would be, but she could understand why people had thought it would stand forever. It was still standing now after all, even if it was not quite in the same shape.

They were riding away from it now, to the next stop. The horse was doing well, and Sansa sat at the front as always, the rhythmic swaying oddly soothing to her. Sure, she was sore, but this was a vast improvement on Kings Landing. The Capitol may have had a soft bed, good food and all the luxuries but being free was the biggest luxury of all. She didn't care that she had to sleep in the forest, her muscles were sore from riding and she was dirty (though they had found a stream that morning to wash in, Sansa blushing the whole time as Jaime diligently kept his back to her). She would live like this for years if it meant never returning to Kings Landing and eventually reuniting with her brother.

But she knew it wouldn't take that long and Jaime had said, even if they had to travel to Winterfell (something he had joked he was not looking forward to as he had felt frozen last time, she had promised to lend him her cloak and he had laughed), it shouldn't be more than a month, three weeks if they rode hard. It was good, she was so close to her family she could almost taste it.

And the further she got from Kings Landing the better she was.

There was a rosiness to her cheeks, a spring to her step, an almost constant smile on her lips. She was a little thinner yes, a little dirtier (really a lot dirtier), but that didn't matter, away from Kings Landing she felt happy, she felt safe. Oddly, she felt safer sleeping on the side of the road than she had in the Red Keep. Of course, Jaime was to thank for that.

He was protective of her, but not in a possessive fashion. He lied to make sure she'd eaten her fill, liked to make sure she was happy. He didn't inquire about whether her patch of floor was comfortable or if she was cold no, it was deeper than that. He'd ask where her mind was when she gazed off into the distance, he'd ask what her smile meant when she grinned at him, always in a teasing manner of course. That was certainly something Sansa had learned about Jaime Lannister, he loved to tease.

In fact she had learned a lot about him in a short amount of time, considering they had been practically strangers before all of this. She had learned that whilst he loved to tease and play with her it was difficult to get him to be serious about anything for, he loved to jest. She had learned that he loved his brother Tyrion but did not speak of Cersei. She learned he loved apples and hated pears, and that he preferred ale to wine. She learned that he was more tender than she had thought, kinder, and in truth Sansa knew she was already half in love with him.

She would never have imagined Jaime Lannister to be like this. He had been so arrogant before, so mean and unkind. And yet now? Now he was sweet to her, he comforted her, and he made her feel safe, so safe, as though none could harm her whilst she stood by his side. When she sat on the horse with his arms around her, she felt content, when he held her hand at night she smiled, and when he hugged her … she felt like none would ever be able to touch her again.

She couldn't help but wonder what had changed him … she had even asked him about it one night as they lay under the stars, hands holding one another's, the hoot of an owl nearby.

' _You seem different than before Jaime' She spoke gently, a little cautious, especially as his face turned serious._

' _I suppose I am' He responded with a nod, though he did not elaborate._

' _Why?' She prompted, not wanting to scare him off by saying her own thoughts out loud._

' _Hmm' Again he fell silent, but Sansa did not prod, only shuffle closer. He needed to get here on his own …_

' _I had a long time to think whilst sat in your brothers cell, a long time to contemplate all the things I've done, all the evil, awful things I did' Another pause, Sansa knew she had stopped breathing, 'I committed so many wrongs for her, for my family, and when I thought about it, when I truly stopped and considered …' Again, a pause, 'I knew it was wrong'_

' _Just like that?' Her voice was a whisper now._

' _No' He shook his head, though the dark was making it hard to see, 'It took many months, of getting over my denial, my stubbornness, my refusal to believe'_

' _But you got there?'_

' _I did … I am' It was too dark to see him now, 'Part of me still believes a lot of what I did was right, part of me still thinks of that old life' Sansa felt her eyes fill with tears, for how could she not cry when he was so raw in front of her? 'Part of me thinks my sins will never be washed away, and that part is right, never'_

' _Oh Jaime that's not tru…'_

' _It is' He cut her off, and the tears trickled down her cheeks, 'The things I've done Sansa … you couldn't even comprehend…'_

' _I could'_

' _No, you couldn't'_

' _Like what?'_

' _Sansa please, just trust that you co…'_

' _Like when you pushed my brother out of the window?'_

_Silence had fallen and Jaime had jumped to his feet, Sansa too, the tears wet on her cheeks now. She had reached for him and he had refused, turned from her and that had caused a sob to leave her lips. At that he had whirled back around, approached her, but he didn't dare let himself touch her._

' _How?' He asked, and Sansa had shaken her head this time._

' _I think I've known for a while' She said, her teeth finding her bottom lip as the tears continued to fall like diamonds, 'He caught you, didn't he?' His nod was all the confirmation she needed, but she had already known._

' _How can you not despise me?' He asked, and she had realised then that he had tears on his cheeks, all japing gone, and then she had reached for him again and he had accepted._

' _I don't know' She said in truth, and she felt the tears on his cheeks as he felt the tears on hers. 'I just cannot' And at that he sank to his knees, pressed his face to her stomach and though he made no sound she knew he cried._

After that they hadn't spoken of it again, but something had seemed to lift a little in Jaime, that she knew, that he would not have to tell her. But then something seemed to cloud him as well, in that he could not understand, did not understand how she accepted it.

In truth Sansa did not know herself. She had suspected for a while that Bran had not 'fallen', but only when she had looked across at Jaime as he exposed himself, as he spoke so vulnerable and cursed his former actions did, she realise. She should have been angry, should have screamed at him but she couldn't, again she wasn't sure why not.

Perhaps it was because she was already in love.

* * *

Winterfell loomed near and Robb felt a rush of satisfaction in his belly as he looked upon the impressive fortress. He was almost home, and he felt the air change around him, the North was his home and it felt different to anywhere else. The cold was welcome against him, and as the wind whipped around him, he felt peaceful. This was where he belonged, not the south, he could only regret he could not bring everyone with him.

God, he felt guilt, immense guilt that he had left Sansa behind. Bran and Rickon were dead, Jon cold at the Wall, his Father long gone, his best friend in Theon a turncoat and Sansa left in the South. He only had his Mother and Arya with him now and he supposed that was a blessing, but it still felt wrong.

They had to take back the fortress from the Iron Born though, had to fortify the North, and had to let the men back to their castles to gather the final harvest and prepare for winter. If it were up to Robb, they would secure Winterfell and march straight back South, but he knew that was not an option. They would return South, they would, but not for a while, and that meant Sansa was alone.

His Mother still wept nightly for her eldest daughter, but Arya's arrival seemed to calm her. There were many decisions to make moving forward now. Already men had been dispatched to liberate the other castles in the North from Iron Born rule, and Moat Cailin had fallen easily enough with the assistance of the Cranogmen and the option of surrender to the Iron Born. The other castles would fall easily, and Robb knew they could take Winterfell too, but there were other problems arising too.

He had intercepted a raven meant for Roose Bolton that wrote of a planned betrayal, he could tell from the language that Lord Bolton had already agreed to it. That had involved having to hold back the Great Jon from beheading the man before he had been duty bound to do it himself. Thankfully he had already received word the Dreadfort had been taken, Ramsey put to the sword (thanks to what they had found in the dungeons), and the castle stood empty, whilst Robb would decide of a new Lord for the Dreadfort.

Thankfully, the morale of the men was still strong, even if they cold, tired, hungry and homesick. The promise of home after liberating Winterfell was enough for them. Then they would regroup to march South again.

"Robb?" He was jerked from his thoughts by Arya, who sat on a horse next to him with a cheeky smile on her face. She would not be in the battle but liked to sit up front with him, he indulged her.

"Yes Arya?" He asked with a smile, but he could see hers drop.

"Do you think Sansa is okay?" She squirmed a little in her seat, "I know we always used to argue but I love her"

Robb felt sat to see her expression, one of regret and sadness, and he reached over to pat his little sister on the shoulder.

"I am sure she is fine" Robb said with a nod, though he wasn't truthful.

It was clear Arya had only survived because of Yoren from the Watch and then the Hound, she would have been a goner had she not had such protection. But Sansa? Sansa was likely all alone in the world, alone, afraid, and perhaps already dead. Robb knew she didn't stand the same chance as Arya, and Robb found himself hoping that if she was dead it had at least been quick. He hated to think she might be already gone but he knew that was the most realistic,

"Do you think she knows I love her?" Arya's lip was trembling then, and Robb leaned over even more to give her a hug.

"Of course, she does" Robb said, placing a kiss to her head that for once she didn't protest, "And I know she loves you"

Arya seemed comforted at that, and then Robb turned his gaze back to Winterfell. Robb missed Sansa and he was scared for her, but he knew now he had to focus. They would reach his home soon and then they would take it back.

"Continue on" He turned to his squire and wife's brother Olyvar who conveyed the order back to the lines. Soon the Northern army was moving forward, to Winterfell, his home.

* * *

The ride along the road continued and they were both feeling weary. Sansa was tired, but oddly she felt more refreshed on the road than she had in Kings Landing. In the Capitol she had slept little, she slept more now on the side of the road than she had in the most comfortable of feather beds. Sure, she looked worse for it but she felt a lot better.

They had passed Harrenhal now, it still loomed in the distance behind them, but they were now on the road again, making their way into the Riverlands, but it was busier here than anywhere else they had been, it was worrying.

There were markets, stalls, many more travellers, and Sansa felt nervous the entire ride. They were barely in the Riverlands, they were not safe here, not at all. As soon as they had passed Jaime had told her to do as they had done in front of the soldiers, she faced him instead of facing the front, and had her hood pulled to hide her hair, which was by far her most distinctive feature. She rested her head on Jaime's chest, her arms around his waist whilst his arms encircled her to hold the reigns. She kept her head down and her mouth shut, only Jaime's presence kept her from shaking.

So far, they had gone unnoticed, but Sansa felt tense and anxious the entire way through, they didn't dare stop for supplies, nor stop at any point. They picked their way through the crowd and the busy market, avoiding anyone's eye. They hoped they could pass by unnoticed and stop at an inn a days ride away for supplies.

They were just getting to the thick of the crowd when they heard a shout from behind them. It was a loud shout, and Sansa flinched and felt her heart leap into her throat.

Suddenly silence fell across the crowd and everyone came to a stop. Jaime was forced to stop the horse too, so not to look suspicious, though Sansa wished she could urge him to ride away, and ride hard, but as she caught a glance at the men who stopped them she knew they wouldn't be able to get away.

It was four men, all with fresh horses and decked in Lannister armour. They weren't particularly intimidating, swords gleamed at their hips, but Sansa knew Jaime would be able to take care of them, but what if they recognised him? What if they recognised her? She knew Lord Varys had spies across the Kingdoms as did Littlefinger, as did Tywin. They weren't in danger of being killed here, but they were certainly in danger of being spotted.

Sansa felt sick with worry and she was shaking now, her hands tightened on Jaime's waist, her fingers gripping at his tunic, her eyes darting to look up at him.

He too looked worried, but he tried to reassure her with an easy smile, even though she could see it was strained. "I'll protect you" He mouthed, and she knew that, she did, but that didn't mean the situation wasn't dangerous. Still she nodded and clutched at him further.

"Everyone off your horses" The soldiers called, and Sansa could see Jaime debating it; would they be able to ride away? Would they be fast enough? She knew they wouldn't when Jaime nodded at her and the decision was made, and they climbed down. He helped her come down and kept one hand on the reigns of their horse, and he used his other hand to hold hers. He angled himself to stand in front of her, and she could see the hand he had on the horse was positioned so he could go for his sword at a moments notice. Did he anticipate a fight? She shook harder then.

"Jaime?" She whispered, and he shook his head, turned to her, and put a finger to his lips. She nodded, he was right, they shouldn't talk, she had to trust he knew what to do.

She squeezed his hand hard and he squeezed back. Her other hand reached to clutch his as well. She knew she was shaking but she tried not to look so scared, even though she felt terrified.

"This is an inspection" One of the men called, and Sansa did feel a little bit relieved at that, that they weren't specifically looking for them. She was worried though, sure few people knew what she looked like, she had rarely been out and about in the Red Keep after all, but Jaime? The time on the road had seen his hair grow a little longer, and his beard had been shaved, but he still looked like him. He was distinctive, and she was terrified they'd notice him, he was Jaime Lannister, famous, he'd probably fought alongside these men! What if they recognised him?

Still he squeezed her hand again and she felt reassured, he would keep her safe, she knew he would keep her safe, in that she had no doubt.

* * *

"Stay still, don't talk I will" He spoke out of the corner of his mouth in a whisper, "Keep your head down, and if fighting starts get back" He paused then, he didn't want to contemplate the next eventuality but he had to warn her, "If I fall fighting then jump on the horse and ride, ride hard, go North, only North, find your brother" Sansa let out a little gasp but he turned to look at her, "Promise me"

"I won't leave you" She whispered with a furious shake of her head, "I won't"

"You will" He said, a growl leaving his lips, "If I fall you have to run, you have to, go North and find your brother"

"No" She shook her head again and Jaime wanted to curse at her stubbornness, though part of him felt a little warm inside that she didn't want to leave him, he knew she had to if he fell.

"Sansa" He growled but again she shook her head, and he was forced to fall quiet as the soldiers slowly made their way around.

Jaime knew this was bad, if the soldiers recognised them, they were screwed. There were too many people here that it would certainly get back to his Father, and then he would be named a traitor, a turncoat, and that would be it. Any possibility of returning to his old life would be gone.

However, he found he didn't regret that as much as he once had. What in his old life did he have to return to? A mad King of his seed on the throne? His sister, who at the start of this journey he had wanted to get back to, but he now knew he had been wrong? His father? The only person he felt a pang of sadness he would miss was Tyrion … and Cersei a little. Not for what she had become, cruel, unkind, uncaring, but for who she had been as children. She had always had a mean streak, but she had been somewhat kind once, he missed her, he missed that Cersei.

For he didn't love Cersei anymore, not like that, he couldn't. His time in captivity had stopped that, though he had only realised that when he had started this journey. And in truth he realised it all the more as time went on.

When he saw Sansa smile, so innocent and kind. When she held his hand each night as she went to sleep and always woke up a little closer with her leg kicked over his calves. The way she laughed, eyes filling with delight. The way she made him laugh and looked so pleased when she did. She was beautiful, innocent, kind … nothing like Cersei.

And he cared for Sansa now, he could see that. He wanted to protect her, keep her safe, take care of her. And … he was starting to realise he did not want to leave her. He did not want to drop her off with her brother and never see her again. He didn't want to fight against her or her family as it would mean going against her. He wanted to stay with her, he knew that now … but that was an issue to confront on another day.

Now he was focused on the soldiers, they were making the rounds, peering in people's bags, bullying people, and taunting them. Jaime knew he would have to keep his cool and Sansa's hand clutching his helped. There best chance was to get through this unscathed and unrecognised so they could continue on, he could not lose his temper.

Though as soon as the soldiers reached them that no longer became possible.

"So, what do we have here?" One of the soldiers said as he approached, and immediately began to rifle through the saddle bags on the horse. Jaime had to restrain himself from stopping him.

"Names" One of the others said and Jaime spoke, trying to add some gruff to his voice, so he wouldn't sound so highborn, for that would be a dead giveaway.

"Edwin" He spoke with a nod, "This is my wife, Kate" He said, and the soldier nodded … before he got a look at Sansa, even though she had kept her eyes on the floor, he could still see her and he immediately leered at her as he did.

Jaime went to step in front of her, but Sansa's nails digging into his hand stopped him, he knew he couldn't lose his temper, not unless they gave him a reason to, and they hadn't yet … just.

"Who is this pretty little thing wasted on a commoner?" He said and the other soldiers laughed as he leered forward. Jaime gritted his teeth to stop him springing forward, and he knew Sansa was clutching him hard to stop him.

It was only when the man reached forward and tugged her hood from her head did Jaime know this was it. As soon as Sansa's hair was uncovered, and Jaime lifted his head and thrust his hands out to push the solider away before reaching for his sword … their cover was blown.

"Wait!" A solider called as the two standing advanced forwards onto Jaime, "That's Jaime Lannister" The third said, and then several people gasped, and Sansa let out a little whine, this was it, they were found.

"Who's he with?" The soldiers had at least stopped now, sensing that fighting Jaime Lannister was not the best of ideas for many reasons. Both in that he was a legendary swordsman, and the son of their commander, and a Lannister himself, he could see them evaluating what to do. Jaime however kept his sword ready and had moved to stand completely in front of Sansa.

"Fuck" The soldier who had looked through their saddle bags moved around and caught a look at them then, "That's Sansa Stark" More gasps and Jaime let out a groan, "I recognise her from the Kings nameday celebrations" Shit, fuck. That was it, they could not let them leave alive, no chance. Spies in the crowd would report back and Jaime couldn't kill everyone here, but the soldiers? They had to be stopped from following them, they would have to die.

"Ser Jaime" The lead soldier spoke again as his friend finally stood to his feet. "What are you doing with Lady Sansa? She's a fugitive, reward of 100 gold dragons for her capture" It was then the civilians seemed to pay more attention. That was a life changing amount, though none stepped forward, sensing Jaime would not let them take her, and damn they were right. "Are you trying to bring her home?"

"No" A civilian piped up then and stepped forward, a dagger in his hand, "They were going in the opposite direction to Kings Landing"

"Ser Jaime?" The soldier spoke again in question this time. Fuck, this was it.

Jaime lashed out quickly, his sword through the stomach of the one who had leered at Sansa first, before he pulled it out and sent a strike at the civilian, which he narrowly dodged. "Sansa go" He called, and he turned to look at her for a second before turning back, his sword whirling through the air to cut through another one of the soldiers. Two down, three to go.

Though more joined, other civilians who were willing to take a chance with him for the money. He understood that, but that didn't mean he'd let them near Sansa.

And yet … they had found a way around him.

"Jaime!" He heard her scream as he slashed out at the fighters, and he turned to see two men pulling her away. He could see the plan now, distract him with the fight whilst they hurried off with Sansa to hand her over for the reward.

That was when he saw red.

He was fast, too fast for them and he fought with a fury. He cut through them quickly, whirling his blade through the air, his footwork neat and quick, the thick muscles in his arms rippling as he struck his sword out. Soon three civilians were dead and the two soldiers, blood splashed across the dirt road. He didn't have a nick on him, though his tunic had a fair amount of blood on it. He killed one final attacker by thrusting his sword through his throat before he turned to see them dragging Sansa away, the rest of the crowd having ran behind the stalls or ran all together. The ones who had Sansa were running towards Harrenhal and he knew he could not let them make it to the castle.

And so, he reached for his dagger and threw it, it whirled through the air, striking one of the captors in the back of the head. He heard Sansa scream, and she continued to thrash but she wasn't strong enough to get free. He sprinted forward in time to see Sansa elbow her captor in the face. It wasn't enough to stop the rogue but it left him dazed for a moment and he smiled, not a nice smile, a mean smile as it gave him the opening he needed.

He grabbed at the captor from behind and Sansa fell to the floor. The civilian struggled but Jaime was too strong, too skilled. A twist of his arms and the man fell to the floor, his neck broken. The fight was over.

"Jaime" Sansa cried out, and he quickly went to her, pulling her up. She threw herself into his arms, sobbing, and he held her close before pulling back to look at her, to check over her. Not a mark on her, like him, she was okay. She looked terrified, ruffled, and he knew he was covered in blood and his own blood was still up, but they were both alright.

"You're okay" He said, both to himself and to her. She nodded and clutched at him, not caring about the blood. "You're okay"

"Why didn't you run?" He asked, his hands moving to hold her face, to cup her face, his thumbs stroking over her cheeks without meaning to.

"I told you I wouldn't leave you" At that he kissed her, how could he not? He pulled her too him and kissed her, his lips firm as he pulled her into his arms. His arms circled her waist, and her hands found there way to his chest. He kissed her hard, putting every worry and bit of desperation into it and Sansa though gentler and more timid responded in kind by clutching him, by tipping her head back and by kissing him back.

It was wonderful, like fireworks exploding in his head, and he felt a deep warmth he had never felt with Cersei. He felt a contentment, a happiness, and he knew from the way she clutched him, the way she sighed and smiled into the kiss, he knew she felt the same way. It was a happiness he could not associate with anything else; it was a warmth in his belly, a rush that made him want to laugh and smile and keep kissing her. It was … it was everything.

But as lovely as it was, and as much as he never wanted it to stop, they did not have time for this. Civilians still watched them, and they were too out in the open, too close to Harrenhal, and so Jaime quickly pulled free. He laughed at Sansa's squeak of protest before he took her hand in hers and they ran back to the horse. He quickly grabbed a bag of provisions hanging on one of the stools and he saw Sansa do the same before they made for their horse.

"We have to go" He said, and she nodded. He quickly pulled her onto the horse and then leapt up in front of her instead for he would have to go faster than he had before. There was no time to secure the saddle or place the provisions down. Sansa quickly tied the provisions down to the saddle bags, and then he was off. He felt Sansa wind her arms around his waist and clutch him hard as he turned them around and then took off.

Thankfully, the horse had rested well the night before, and so he rode hard and fast, away from Harrenhal, away from the markets, and away from it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed
> 
> pls subscribe and comment, you know all that jazz.
> 
> speak soon


	11. Next

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> newww chapter! put of pre-written now, but chapter 12 is half done!
> 
> let me know what you think, I'd love to hear your thoughts. I'd also love to hear what you think might come next, I have planned it, and am starting to give hints!
> 
> as always subscribe for updates, comment if ya like, and most importantly enjoy.
> 
> songrecs: graveyard - halsey

It was hours before they stopped, and Sansa knew they only did so the horse could rest, she felt like they needed to.

For hours they charged forward, her arms wound tightly around Jaime's waist, his thighs digging into the horse's sides, his hands on the reigns urging the mare forward, urging him to go faster and faster. The wind had whipped at her hair and skirts as they flew away from Harrenhal, away from the market and away from the danger.

They flew like birds … _'a pretty little talking bird'_ she'd once been called, and now she flew like one, with Jaime, flew away from the place they had almost been captured, flew away like a dove.

The hours passed by as Jaime urged the horse forward, as she clung to him tightly, as the countryside and road flew past them.

Once they stopped, they quickly walked into the forest, Jaime placed a hand on her back and they walked quick through the trees, the sky darkening with each minute. They went in deeper than usual, much deeper, and yet as she turned to Jaime, he just shook his head and urged her forward.

Fifteen minutes of walking and Jaime finally bought them to a stop.

"Here's fine" He said, tying their exhausted horse to a tree, giving the mare a pat before the horse began to greedily drink at the small pond near it. He grabbed the blankets from the back and placed them down on the floor, as well as the provisions they had stolen, she hoped there was some food.

"What about wild animals?" She asked, for they had always avoided going too deep into the forest for that very reason, and she shuffled closer to Jaime as she spoke her concerns out loud, could there be cats and bears here? Again, she shuffled a little closer.

"We'll build a fire" He said with a nod and Sansa looked up at him bewildered.

"But didn't you say that's dangerous?" She asked, her voice shaking a little now.

"I know what I said" He snapped then, and Sansa didn't respond, just dropped her gaze to the forest floor, it was only when she looked down did she realise her hands were shaking too.

And she didn't even realise there were tears on her cheeks until Jaime was wiping them away.

"It's okay, I'm sorry" He was gentle then, "I know you're scared" She was scared, they had just barely got away, and even though they had escaped, word would soon reach the Capitol of what had happened, that they had been seen together, and for some reason that terrified her even more.

For the ride she hadn't been able to process her fear, but now in the middle of the forest she felt that anxiety, that horror that she'd almost been caught, that Jaime had almost been caught … that she'd almost been parted from him.

"They wanted to take me away from you" A little sob left her lips then and when Jaime pulled her into his arms she went willingly, wrapping her arms around his neck, burying her face into his chest. He stroked her hair gently down her back, soothed her, and Jaime's words did more as well.

"I won't let them" He said, his voice ever so gentle and kind, and that made another little cry leave her lips.

"They know you're with me now" She hiccupped then as the tears continued to trickle down her cheeks, stain Jaime's tunic as she clutched him, "They'll try and pull us apart"

"I won't let them" He said again, and she nodded into his chest, but the tears didn't stop.

It was only when he pulled back, and she could see him looking at her, expression fierce, as he cupped her face with his hands, thumbs gently wiping away her tears.

"I won't ever let them take you away from me" It sounded like a vow, and Sansa let out another sob, her hands moving to circle Jaime's wrists to hold onto him. "I won't Sansa"

"You promise?" She asked then, unable to stop herself. "Promise me"

"I swear" He then leaned in, placed a gentle kiss to her forehead and Sansa allowed herself to breathe as she tucked herself back into his embrace, back into his arms. For several minutes she just stayed there, her breathing calming, her trembling coming to a stop, reassured, reassured by Jaime.

She had been so scared they'd take her from him, rip her from his side and march her back to Kings Landing, and now? Now she was terrified they'd be ripped apart, her back to Kings Landing, Jaime perhaps to the Wall or the block (or Casterly Rock, she doubted Tywin Lannister would ever see his eldest son exiled or killed).

Her fear had now gone from simply being scared of the Lannister's and being back in their clutches but to losing Jaime as well. The first frightened her, but loosing Jaime? That was terrifying as well, she didn't want to lose Jaime, not now … not _ever_.

"I don't want to lose you" She said it out loud, so he would know, she wanted him to know.

Once her biggest fear had been the Lannister's, now she was terrified of losing one.

"You won't" He promised, and she nodded, as his hands rubbed her back, as her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck, it soothed her in an odd way, they soothed each other.

"Why do you want to build a fire?" She asked, stepping back then, but she didn't move completely out of his embrace, she couldn't, not yet.

"To keep watch" He said then, and she could see he debated not saying anything but he continued on, "We have to be on extra high alert now Sansa, they know our general area, a raven will be at Kings Landing before dawn, they will comb through this area to find us, we have to be more careful than ever before"

"Okay" She said with a nod, she trusted Jaime, trusted he would keep her safe, trusted he knew the best way forward. "I trust you" She said, and the smile he gave her at those words gave the most reassurance of all.

"I will keep you safe" Another vow … once she had called him an oathbreaker, but now? Now she trusted him to keep every vow to her, to honour them, to honour _her_.

"I know" She said, and his smile made her smile, made her a little less anxious, as he leaned forward again to plant a kiss on her forehead, which she leaned into, taking a deep breath, Jaime's touch calming her fears.

"Come on" He said with a smile then, and she nodded, for they needed to set up for the night, to eat and build a fire. "How about you have a look through the bags whilst I build a fire?"

At that she nodded, it would be good to be useful, to be distracted, and so as Jaime went about building a fire, she went about sorting through the satchel bags.

"Jaime, thank you" She said, unable to stop herself, turning to him and giving him a smile.

"Don't thank me Sansa" He said, giving her a smile too, "I can't lose you either"

* * *

Night fell and after a reasonable supper of bread, cheese and apples, Jaime would have loved to settle down to sleep, even on the hard forest floor. Sansa had already settled down, tucked in under the blankets. Of course, Jaime wanted to join her, to settle in, take her hand and fall asleep with Sansa by his side, but his thoughts stopped him.

By morning, his family would know, they'd all know.

He'd turned traitor.

In a way once he had decided to take Sansa home, he'd known his old life was closed to him, but he hadn't fully understood it, but now? Now he knew, there was no going back. Cersei, his father, Tyrion … it was all gone. He could never go back, not once the inevitable raven reached them, that he was helping their little bird fly on home.

But that wasn't even what kept him up. Yes, he'd mourn the life he'd left behind. His sister, as done with her as he was part of him still loved her, always would, his father, stern and unforgiving but his father all the same, and Tyrion, his little brother he'd always love, but who thirsted for power same as the rest of them. He'd miss them, but the thoughts that stopped him sleeping ran somewhere else.

What was next for him?

Yes, he'd return Sansa home, keep his vow, but then what? Leave her? He didn't want to do that, and yet Robb Stark and the men of the North would never accept him, not in this lifetime. Sansa had said she didn't want to be parted from him, and he believed her, but he doubted that would hold up when she returned to her family.

If she had to pick, he knew she wouldn't choose him, and more importantly he wouldn't want her to.

And so, where would that leave him? Alone? Would he go into exile in Essos? Try and blend in as a commoner? He didn't know, but he knew his old life was lost to him, and his journey with Sansa ended once she was back with her family, as much as he didn't want to leave her, he knew he'd have no choice. And so, what would he do?

He was faced with two problems, what came next, and the reality that his time with Sansa had an end date in the near future.

He wasn't sure which was worse … but then he thought of Sansa's smile, her laugh, her utter and complete trust in him and he knew … leaving Sansa would be worse, much, much worse.

It wasn't even that he wanted to, but how else would it end? Her brother would never accept him, nor her mother, not the North. He'd never be welcomed there, never allowed. And he would never allow Sansa to choose him over her family, not that he flattered himself she would, but if she even tried, he'd stop her.

He knew he'd want to be weak, to accept her choice and just be with her, but no, he'd see her reunited with her family, and he'd make sure she stayed there.

"Jaime?" Her voice roused him from his rather morose thoughts, and he turned to look at her, with a smile, even if it was slightly sad, but of course Sansa caught that. "What's wrong?"

"Just thinking about what happened" She seemed to buy that at least, he didn't want to burden her with his worries, not now, for now he just wanted to bask in what they had, not think about the near future that would see it end, he didn't want to weigh Sansa down.

"Come here" She said with a smile, and his smile turned happy then, at how confident she'd become by his side, how the insecurities she'd shown when he first found her were shedding away, but as proud as he was, he had to refuse her request.

"I've got to keep watch" He said, even though it left him out in the cold, and he was rather tired.

"No" She said with a shake of her head, and he laughed then, he remembered again how quiet and timid she'd once been, he liked this, liked seeing her come out of her shell. "You need to sleep, and no one will find us this deep in, the fire will smoulder and keep away predators"

She was right, though it would be safer to keep watch, but one last look from her and with a roll of his eyes he relented, though he couldn't help but comment.

"Quite bossy nowadays my Lady" He said with a teasing lilt and her giggle was more than a reward for his cheek.

"Well we said we'd take of each other, didn't we?" She challenged, and he nodded then.

"Indeed, we did"

And with that he moved forwards, pulled the blankets over both of them, and Sansa immediately took his hand. They settled down facing one another, side by side, a little closer than the night before, and as he watched Sansa drift off with a smile, he was smiling too, but sadly again.

He didn't want to leave her, but he knew when she was home, he would have to.

As he drifted off, he thought that at least he could enjoy the journey, and remember it when he figured out what came next.

* * *

In Kings Landing, what came next was on his mind too.

He'd heard Pycelle hurrying through the corridors, fresh letter in his hand, unopened, which surprised him, usually the old coot tore open anything he received. Perhaps, his father had instructed him to bring everything directly to him?

"What do you have there?" Tyrion asked as the lecherous old Maester went to move down the corridor, but he came to a sudden stop upon Tyrion's question, the old man still remembered his stint in the black cells, especially when Bronn stood near.

"Just a letter from the Riverland's my Lord" Pycelle said, with a bow of his head, "I haven't read it, I'm taking it to the Lord Hand"

"I'm on my way there now" A lie, but he wanted that letter, a note from the Riverland's could ony mean one of two things.

Information on Jaime, or information on Sansa, and Tyrion wanted to know.

"I'll take it to father" He said, "Help you avoid all those steps" When Pycelle still looked doubtful Tyrion levelled a glare, that seemed to do it.

"Of course, my Lord" He fumbled, and Tyrion resisted the urge to roll his eyes before taking the note from the Maester who worried off in fear.

"Old man won't stay scared for long" Bronn counselled, and Tyrion nodded before ripping open the seal, his guard and friend was right, they'd need to do something about that. The Grand Maester had no loyalty to him, fear would need to continue.

But then, any thought of his next move with Pycelle, or what he had been planning to have for breakfast, or the plan for his day was gone from his mind as he read the note he had taken from the Maester, the note he was very glad Pycelle hadn't read, and as he scanned over it twice, three times, he hurriedly placed it in his pocket, and took a second.

His blood ran cold, panic infiltrated his veins and his mind worked fast, faster than usual to figure out what he was going to do with this information. What could he do? For he had to do something. He thought over the letter as he stood still, ignoring Bronn's concern, as he remembered the script.

' _Word has come from the local market town of a disturbance during a guard inspection._

_During the inspection two individuals in the town made a fuss and were revealed. A guard positively identified them as Ser Jaime Lannister and the Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell, Ser Jaime then slew the guards, absconded with Lady Sansa, and fled the market._

_It was also reported witnesses saw a kiss between the Ser Jaime and Lady Sansa. They were seen heading North into the Riverland's on the King's Road_

_We hope this information will be of use to you and will further show our loyalty to the Lannister's. We here at the Harrenhall guard are loyal to King Joffrey'_

Jaime was okay, that was a relief at least, but that was the end of the good news. He was okay, but he was also with Lady Sansa, she was okay, also a relief he supposed … but, as okay as Jaime must be, he was also a traitor.

A traitor? His brother? It didn't seem possible, and yet if the note were true (and why would anyone fabricate that?!), then Jaime had turned his back on his family, for some reason.

"Back to my rooms" Tyrion ordered then, and turned on his heel, walking as fast as his little legs could carry him, "I'll order food there" He resisted the urge to run, but walked fast. This news would not be contained for long, and for Jaime's sake he needed to figure out what to do, and he needed to figure it out quickly.

His brother had turned his back on his family, but Tyrion didn't care about that, he wanted to know why of course, but more importantly he wanted to keep him safe, and to do that he needed a plan.

A plan to ensure his brother was not labelled a traitor, even if this intelligence suggested he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo thoughts?
> 
> I know this chapter was slightly shorter but I have a big section that didn't fit here that will come in the next chapter, and I wanted to end it here.
> 
> so, what did we think? the angst is coming! I did warn, this fic may have a lot of fluff but it does have angst too. lemme know which d'you prefer? I'm a big angst fan myself, even if I am a sucker for a lil fluff.
> 
> anywho, I do hope you enjoyed, lemme know if you did
> 
> speak soon


End file.
